A Shove Toward Insanity
by Tayz
Summary: PRE-B7 Thrown into the future, Hermione and Draco find themselves wed to one another. Other surprises: Harry's dead, the war is over, and Draco is a respected Auror, working on the light side. How did their lives take such a bizzare turn? Rated T for L
1. At Spinner's End

"**A Shove Towards Insanity"**

By

Tayz

&

Ms. Understood

**A/N:** Well, here it is as promised: the first chapter of **A Shove Towards Insanity**. This is the un-edited version, as we're waiting for cyropi to send it back, but I wanted to just test out the first chapter to see what kind of feedback we'd get! I wrote this chapter, and **ms.understood (Nicole)** is writing the next, so we'll probably just switch off like that. Mmkay, please review because we need some feedback! We're not positive of the length between updates, but with school coming up, we'll eventually set one. Have fun and **REVIEW**!

**Chapter 1** – **"At Spinner's End"**

"Harry, can we please slow down for a bit?" pleaded an exasperated Hermione, adjusting the magical bag that was slung over her shoulder into a more comfortable position.

"Yeah, mate, at least fill us in on exactly _where_ we're going!" Ron chimed in, running up and catching his friend's elbow, forcing him to stop.

Harry looked back at Ron with an extremely irritated expression, but obliged and stopped in his tracks.

"Oh, thank you," said Hermione, sitting down on the curb and looking up at Harry with a curious air, setting the bag down beside her.

"Yes, Harry, don't you think you ought to explain before we proceed any further?" Remus Lupin said. "They do, after all, have a right to know what's going on."

Harry stared at him, his tongue moistening his top lip, thinking.

After the students had returned to their homes, Harry only stayed at the Dursley's for a fortnight, just like he did the previous summer. Some members of the Order, including Lupin and Kingsley, had come to fetch him just as Dumbledore had done. Harry had expected to return to number 12, Grimmauld Place, but to his surprise, Lupin and Kingsley had led him to another building, one which Harry had never seen before. This, he supposed, was to be the new headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix. According to Lupin, Grimmauld Place was not safe anymore.

"Severus knows where the house is," he had told Harry plainly, "And, as Dumbledore was our Secret Keeper, the curse has been broken. But no matter, I've been appointed that responsibility, and this place will do for now."

Harry and the Order all lodged at these new headquarters, so Harry didn't hesitate to tell them all what Dumbledore had taught and showed him the previous year. He had explained to them in detail every memory he had seen, everything about the Horcruxes, and everything about his and Dumbledore's recent and final adventure. To Harry's surprise, the Order seemed to know most of what he had told them.

"Dumbledore explained about the Horcruxes the minute he recruited the Order back together," Mad-Eye Moody had explained. "He was just waiting for the right time to tell you, I reckon."

Harry also hurried to tell them about his plans to seek out the remaining four Horcruxes, and how he wanted to start out his search at Godric's Hollow. Again, to his surprise, no one had objected.

"Of course," they had said to him, nodding gravely. They all had spent the next couple of weeks planning and preparing for their extraordinary adventure, the only thing interrupting it being Bill and Fleur's wedding ceremony, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione's apparition test. All three of them had passed.

Ron and Hermione had not been able to come to the new headquarters before this time; Ron's mother insisted that he stay home at least until the wedding, and Hermione had chosen to stay with her parents until that time as well, as none of them knew how long they'd be gone. After the wedding, all three of them returned to the Order's headquarters, and Ron and Hermione immediately joined in happily in the preparation to go to Godric's Hollow.

"Fine," Harry said finally, returning his mine to the present time, "Can we keep walking as I talk, at least?" Harry looked pointedly at Ron and Hermione, who were both looking exhausted.

"Sure," said Ron, immediately joining Harry's side. The group turned to stare at Hermione, who was still sitting on the curb, looking reluctant.

Harry raised his eyebrow at her.

"Oh, oh, alright!" she said angrily, picking up the magical bag and once again positioning it over her shoulder.

"Good, let's move, then. The quicker we get to the spot, the better," said the deep voice of Kingsley Shacklebolt.

They all resumed their pace, Lupin walking hand in hand with a young woman, whose hair was bubblegum pink, her heart shaped face smiling cheerfully.

It had originally only been Kingsley and Lupin who were to accompany Harry, Ron, and Hermione on their journey, but Tonks had _insisted_ that she come along. Harry knew she wanted to help, but he thought he knew the real reason Tonks had put her foot down when she had learned that Lupin would be away for an unknown amount of time.

"Ok, what do you want to know, then?" Harry asked Ron and Hermione, knowing it was an extremely stupid question to ask, as he knew _exactly_ what they were wanting answered.

"Well, where are we going, first off?" Ron asked.

"Spinner's End," Harry answered shortly, continuing to look straight ahead.

"Where?" asked Hermione.

"Spinner's End," Harry repeated, "It's Snape's house."

A shocked silence followed this statement.

"Snape's house?" Hermione asked, looking taken aback. "But, Harry, I thought we were going to Godric's Hollow before anything?"

"We were, until we found out that Severus has been keeping _another_ house all to himself," said Lupin, looking at Hermione. "None of the Order ever knew or heard of this place, until now, of course," he added.

"But how did you find out about it?" Ron inquired, looking confused.

"Kreacher," said Harry flatly.

"Kreacher?" gasped Hermione, face now matching the look of puzzlement on Ron's. "How did Kreacher –"

"Remember the time he had disappeared two Christmases ago?" said Tonks in an out-of-place cheery voice.

Ron and Hermione nodded.

"Well, he had stayed at the Malfoy's, hadn't he? With Mrs. Malfoy, right? Well, Kreacher seemed to have over-heard some interesting conversations during his little visit," said Lupin.

"Oh," said Ron, frowning, "well, at least he's some good use, right?"

Hermione gave him the faintest of scowls, but you could tell her heart was not in it. Lupin smiled softly.

"How'd you get it out of him?" Ron asked as the all turned a corner and walked down a deserted Muggle street.

"Well, I'm his Master, aren't I?" said Harry, "We heard Kreacher muttering under his breath as we were searching for other possible locations. When we heard a glimpse of something he said about Snape, I ordered him to tell me everything he had found out when he had stayed at the Malfoy's."

"Do we know how to get there?" asked Hermione.

"We managed to piece everything Kreacher knew together, and with a few useful spells, we were able to locate it," Kingsley added, making Hermione and Ron jump; they had forgotten he was there. "At least, we know enough to find the basic location. It's most likely we won't get to the exact place," he added as an afterthought.

"So," Hermione started in a small voice, "do we know where Snape – or anybody else – is? How do we know he's not at his home right now?"

"We don't," said Tonks. "But we're thinking that Snape and the others are probably not sitting at home, lounging, instead of serving their – _master_," Tonks spat the last word mockingly.

There was silence that followed Tonks' statement; everyone seemed to have been reminded of the dangerous risk they were taking.

After a while, Ron spoke, "We're not _walking_ to, uh – Spooner's Point, are we?"

"Spinner's End," Harry corrected, still not looking at anyone, "And no, we're not. We're just moving to a place to apparate. In case you haven't noticed, we were right smack middle of a Muggle town, so, we needed to find a more deserted place."

Ron nodded, looking a bit paler than he had when they'd started their journey.

The six of them walked on, breathing heavily against the mean hills, and squinting their eyes as the sun slowly started to sink into nothingness, the whole while none of them talking, their silence only being broken by the very distant shouts or lawn mowers of the people in the apartments they had passed.

Hermione was scratching at her arm, trying to swat away the bothersome mosquitoes that were flying about them, Ron kept casting nervous glances at Harry, who was still gazing straight ahead, Tonks and Lupin were still holding hands, and Kingsley walked gruffly next to Harry.

"Just up here," said Lupin, making everyone jump at the sudden sound of his voice. He was pointing about two-hundred feet ahead, to where a large area of field and weeds lay in the middle of old, broken down buildings.

Ron looked as if he were about to be sick. When Harry and Hermione gave him questioning looks, he said, "Well, we – uh – we've only just passed our Apparition Test, and, uh, well, we're going a bit further then we're used to, aren't we?"

"You'll be fine, Ron," said Lupin, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Just concentrate, stay focused, and remember the three –"

"The three D's, yeah, I remember," said Harry, looking over at Lupin with a small smile on his lips that didn't quite reach his vivid green eyes.

Lupin smiled his soft smile back at Harry, nodding his head. "Exactly," he said, "Now…just concentrate on 'Spinner's End', do the normal routine, and then you'll be perfectly fine."

The three teenagers nodded at Lupin, and all six started spreading a bit further apart then they were before to give them some room.

"Alright, you lot," Lupin spoke again, "on the count of three, yes?"

"Yes," replied Harry and Hermione in unison. Lupin looked around to check that Ron, Tonks, and Kingsley had all agreed and understood the instructions.

When he was satisfied that the group was with him, Lupin resumed, "Alright, remember: Destination, Determination, Deliberation!" he spoke pointedly to Harry, Ron, and Hermione. They nodded, all three starting to get a little impatient now and wishing that Lupin would stop stalling and get on with it. "Ok, ready? One –"

All six moved into their positions, concentrating on their desired destination.

"Two –"

_Spinner's End, Spinner's End, Spinner's End _–

"Three!"

And in complete unison, the four wizards and the two witches turned on the spot, feeling their way into nothingness, and then with six simultaneous _pops _that echoed loudly around the deserted vicinitythey disappeared without a trace left behind them.

In an instant, there was a combined _pop_ of the group, and Harry, Ron, Hermione, Lupin, Tonks and Kingsley appeared out of thin air, little ways from a black, filthy looking river. All six were looking around at each other, making sure everyone had made it safely, and when each person clarified that their five others were indeed whole and secure, they began to peer curiously around at their surroundings.

The black river of which they had landed so close was wound snake-like between overgrown banks, which had piles of rubbish strewn about it. There was a large chimney of an abandoned mill that reared up, looking shadow-covered and ominous. Ron, yet again, looked slightly green.

"Is – is this right?" Hermione asked in a small, timid voice; something about this area caused a shuddering chill to run up her spine, making the back of her neck tingle.

"We can only hope," Lupin answered her in a similar voice to Hermione's, though more soft and wary rather than frightened. The sun was just about set; they could see tiny stars start to appear next to the fully-exposed moon.

"This is it," said Harry, his voice hard and determined. Everyone's head turned in his direction, not sure how to respond.

"How can you be sure?" Tonks spoke up.

"I can't be. I just have a feeling. I'm pretty sure we're in the right place. We just have to search around for a bit, don't we?"

Nobody answered, but the air was agreeable. They waited, all gazing at Harry, silently deciding that it was best if they let him make the moves. Harry looked around for a minute, before seeming to make his decision and starting to trudge up the bank.

Ron, Hermione, Lupin, Tonks, and Kingsley all shared a look before beginning to follow Harry. As they all got the top of the bank, they found a line of old, rusted looking railings separating the river from a very slim, cobble-stoned street. Rows and rows of ramshackle brick houses, whose windows were dull and blind in the now completely dark night, ran along the sides of the street in which they were standing. The street lamps flickered in exhaust.

"Wait," said Hermione, grabbing Harry's arm to prevent him from going any further.

"What?" Harry asked, staring at her in confusion.

"Look," is all Hermione said, peering around at the rows of houses.

"What?" he repeated, this time impatiently, after having found nothing interesting about the houses that surrounded them.

"They're – they're Muggle houses…"

Everyone did a double take, afterwards realising that Hermione had been right; there was not _one_ single magical object around them, nothing to suggest that wizards or witches lived there.

"Well, we're at the wrong place, then, aren't we?" said Ron, squinting his eyes at a garden hose that lay curled in one of the houses yards, looking confused.

"No," said Harry softly, eyeing the houses with what seemed to be great concentration. Again, all faces turned towards his. "No, Snape wouldn't have wanted to live near wizards, would he? If this house of his was a secret, then he wouldn't want to be exposing it to people who knew him –who knew Dumbledore."

"You're right, Harry. That's very true," said Lupin thoughtfully, a mildly impressed look on his face.

"So, how do we figure out which one's Snape's?" growled Kingsley.

"_Locus_,"said Hermione at once, looking between Kingsley, Tonks, and Lupin for conformation. "The spell _Locus_: to locate someone, right?"

Lupin smiled, nodding, "Indeed, Hermione, indeed," he said, looking amused. He pulled his wand out from his robe and pointed it into the air, seemingly at nothing in particular, and uttered, "_Locus: Severus Snape!_"

A green wisp of light burst from the tip of Lupin's wand, halted for a moment, sputtered, and died.

"What happened?" asked Harry, annoyed: he just wanted to get on with what he had come for.

"Hmm, I'm not sure," said Lupin, frowning and lowering his wand.

"It could be protected!" said Tonks, "Snape could have placed a barrier that deflected locater spells."

They all considered this; yes, it would seem something Snape would have done. He was, after all, exceedingly intelligent.

"So, what do we do?" asked Ron, his voice somewhat hoarser than usual.

"We could search the old-fashioned, muggle way," suggested Tonks. "You know, peeking through windows and that kind of thing," she looked slightly amused as she said this, obviously poking fun at this extremely inefficient way of getting something done.

"Oh, wait!" Hermione exclaimed suddenly, whipping out her own wand and crying, "_Vestigium Veneficus!_"

Another light shot out of the tip of Hermione's wand, similar to Lupin's failed Locater Spell, but this one did not sputter and die. The light flew threw the air like a firework, only horizontally, about twenty feet ahead of them. It turned sharply to the left, going down another street named Spinner's End, over which the towering mill chimney hovered. The group quickly started to run, making sure they didn't lose it. The light zoomed straight to the very last house, and when it had reached it, burst into thousands of tiny, shimmering sparks, raining upon the house is question.

"Well, that worked," said Ron in awe, looking at the house that the spell had showered upon.

Hermione beamed, not even attempting to hide the look of pride and smugness that her spell had been useful.

"Nice one, Hermione!" cried Tonks in glee, also beaming.

Kingsley nodded at her, smiling slightly, and Lupin said, "Well done, Hermione, very well done."

Harry turned to grin at Hermione, who grinned back, and then questioned, "What was that spell?"

"Well, it's a magic tracer. The spell will go immediately to the first trace of magic it finds, except it only goes for objects, not people," she recited proudly, still grinning like a Cheshire Cat.

"And," added Lupin, "It's been used numerous times by Aurors. It's useful if one wants to find a wizard in disguise, quite like our situation here," he gestured toward the house.

"Ok, then, shall we carry on?" Harry pressed in, eagerly.

"We shall," said Lupin, "but first…" he pulled out of his robes a piece of parchment, slightly ripped and bent at the edges from being shoved into a pocket.

Lupin unrolled it, pointed his wand tip at its face, and muttered a quick succession of words that neither of the rest could hear. After a few moments, just as Ron was going to ask Lupin what on earth he was doing, the parchment glowed; red light illuminated everyone's faces in the semi-darkness, followed by a ring of gold around it, and then disappeared as soon as it had come.

Shocked silence followed. Everyone was staring at the piece of parchment which was now covered with curling black ink, forming itself into shapes and angels. Harry recognized the form of which the ink was settling itself at once.

"Is that the Marauder's Map?" he asked, aghast.

"Similar to," said Lupin, smiling serenely down at Harry. "But instead of Hogwarts, _this_ map is showing us right here," he gestured around the street.

"Wow," whispered Hermione, her eyes wide in amazement.

"So…" continued Lupin, "we can now see if our predicament was correct is thinking that neither Severus nor any of the Death Eaters are there. Let's see."

Harry, Ron, and Hermione pressed closer together so they could get a better look.

_Rosanne Winkman, Francis Otto, Edith Otto, Mr. Rogers (the dog), and Charlotte Eberly, _were a few that they had seen but, they noticed as they scanned the map closer, there didn't seem to be anybody in Snape's house.

What they didn't notice, however, as the patches of dark caused by the broken street lamps had prevented them from seeing it, were two small dots sitting in one of the rooms of Snape's house. The dots were labeled: _Draco Malfoy_ and _Peter Pettigrew_.

"I don't see anyone," said Hermione, her brows furrowed.

"Nor do I," said Lupin, tapping the map and causing it to go blank. He straightened up, as did the others, and looked closely at the end of the street.

"So let's go, then! We have the spells to break the sensors, don't we? The stealth sensors?" Harry asked, his green eyes seeming to glow in the flickering light cast by the street lamps.

"Yes, we do," said Kingsley.

"Ok, then! Let's go!" said Harry.

Lupin's lined face looked down carefully upon Harry. It almost looked as though Lupin was going to say something in protest, but then he said, "Yes. Alright, then."

The remaining four that didn't have their wands out retrieved them, and positioned them at the alert.

Harry and Lupin took the lead, slowly making their way to the last house of the street and stepping upon its lawn. Harry, Lupin, and the others walked straight up to the front door, leaving a few feet between them and it, incase of wide-range sensors.

The three Aurors all raised there wands, and uttered the same spell, "_Declino Obex!" _

Transparent, silvery light was created from all three wands and excited with a soft _poof_. The three separate lights all joined together, forming what looked like a protective shield around the house. It seemed to do nothing for a few minutes but glitter softly in the moonlight. Then, it vanished.

"Did it work?" asked Harry quizzically.

"Yes, it did, but, strange as it is, there doesn't seem to be any protective spell here," said Lupin, looking as puzzled as Harry. "But, of course, it could just be for muggles…"

"So it's safe, then?" questioned Hermione, starting to shiver a bit in the cool night air.

"Yes, it seems so," Lupin answered, taking a step towards the door and placing his hand upon the doorknob. He paused, not noticing that Harry, Ron, Hermione, Tonks, and Kingsley were all staring at him anxiously.

Lupin gave the knob a turn, muttered something, and then gave the door a push. To everyone's amazement, the door flew open without any objection. Lupin swiped his wand around the door frame, but nothing happened. He turned back to the others and, with a nod of his head, beckoned them to enter. Harry, Ron, and Hermione crept into the house, followed by Tonks and Kingsley. Quietly, Lupin shut the door behind him.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked around. They had entered directly into a sitting room, rather tiny, which gave them all the impression of a dark, padded cell.

"Ooh!" whispered Hermione, but with a spark of delight.

Harry and Ron looked to where she was pointing; the walls were completely covered in books, most of them covered in rotting leather; a tattered sofa, an old armchair, and a rotting, rickety table were grouped close together, illuminated by a dim light cast by a large, candle-filled lamp that hung from the ceiling.

"Yeah, this is definitely Snape's place," muttered Kingsley darkly, observing one of the books on the shelves entitled: Poisons and Curses: Various Ways to Torture Your Victim.

Hermione joined Kingsley in examining the books upon the walls, but Harry, Ron, Lupin, and Tonks spread out to inspect the other strange things that resided in Snape's house.

"Look at these," said Harry quietly, pointing towards a shelf in which there were various jars filled with different coloured liquids, rather like those that used to be in Snape's office at Hogwarts.

"Yuck!" said Ron, pointing to one of the jars. Harry looked at it, making a face; a large, oddly flat eyeball (though it looked hardly like that of a humans) that glowed a sinister red was floating in the thick, jelly-like goop.

"Let's go in here," Harry whispered to Ron and Hermione, who joined him at once. The adults were clustered around a large dusty tome, muttering quickly under their breaths, oblivious to the teenagers.

They entered another room, slightly smaller than the one they had just come from, more square than the previous had been round. Its walls, instead of book-covered stone, were instead dressed in peeling wallpaper, which looked gloomy and solemn. There was a large, wooden door to the right of them, but it was closed, so they couldn't see where it led to. In this room, there were more jars filled with even more gruesome objects, and there was a slight stench radiating off of them. There was no furniture except for a single chair, a wooden desk which was pressed up against the south end of the wall, and a golden-arched mirror.

"Hmm…"

Harry and Ron turned to find Hermione squatting in front of what looked like an incredibly thick book that was lying, opened about halfway, on the grimy, dusty wooden floor.

"What is it?" asked Harry, joining her at her side and also examining the book.

"I don't know, it must be a book Snape's reading, or something," she said softly, flicking through the pages.

Harry caught glimpses of phrases like _"one of the most brutal attacks of the century"_, or, _"the largest batch of muggles killed by a single person: 200"_

"What _is_ this book?" said Harry in disgust, as he read the line, _"Horance, smug with his superb success, kept an eye and a foot from one of the muggles he slaughtered"_

Hermione closed the book as to check the cover. "Famous Murders of the Ages: A Wizard's Triumph," she read, scowling, "These people are so –"

But Harry never got to hear what exactly "those people" were, because at that moment, there came a "Sssh!" from behind them. Hermione and Harry looked around. Ron was standing dead still, like a dear in the headlights, a look of pure terror upon his face.

"Ron, what –"

"SSH!" Ron repeated, cocking his head to the side, as if trying to hear a mouse.

And then Harry and Hermione heard it too, they went stone still, their hearts pounding against their chests as they heard _voices_. Not a high female voice like Tonks', not Lupin's smooth calmness, not even Kingsley's booming, deep voice; a drawling voice was talking angrily through the closed door, getting closer and closer.

"How many times, you filthy man, do I have to tell you that I don't _need_ you following me around!" the drawling voice said.

"But, young sir, Professor Snape and your own Mother told me strictly to look after you!" answered another voice, a new voice; squeaky and timid.

"Do I look like I give a damn what Snape or my Mother say, Pettigrew?" snapped the first voice.

_Pettigrew?_

Harry, Ron, and Hermione all looked at each other, too shocked to move.

Harry motioned for Ron to go get Lupin or Tonks or Kingsley, but before Ron was able to move so much as a step, the door in which the voices were coming from swung open, and Ron froze.

None other than Draco Malfoy protruded out of the hall behind the door, followed by, as Harry, Ron, and Hermione had heard, Peter Pettigrew.

_Please, let the others hear, let them hear and come to help…_

"Now, Pettigrew, leave me be or I'll –" Draco had turned to face the room and spotted Harry and Hermione, still squatted by the now closed book, and Ron, feet away from the doorframe, each looking as though they were made of stone.

"What is it, young sir, what – ooh!" Wormtail squeaked as he saw Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

There was a long silence, every one of them too shocked to utter a single word.

"What the –" Malfoy began, his face turning scarlet with rage and confusion, but before he could finish his sentence, the members of the Order had come into the room.

_Thank you…thank you, thank you, thank you…_

Malfoy and Wormtail turned to gaze at them. Lupin's face darkened as he spotted Wormtail.

Without so much as a warning, Malfoy raised his wand.

"_Cru-_"

Hermione sprang up suddenly, and to everyone's amazement she hurdled toward Malfoy, knocking him to the ground and into the shelves which held the jars full of ominous objects, and they crashed to the ground, Malfoy's wand shooting out of his hand and landing some five feet away.

This seemed to be the starter for everyone else, because right as Malfoy and Hermione crumpled to the ground, the rest jumped and made a move towards Wormtail, who squeaked, and tried to scuttle back into the room from which he came, only to be petrified by Kingsley. Wormtail's body went as stiff as a board, and he crashed to the ground, unable to move anything. Hermione was struggling to pin Malfoy the ground.

"Get off me, MUDBLOOD!" Malfoy screamed in rage, as Hermione pinned him with all her might, and Harry and Ron came rushing to help. In his fury, Malfoy was trying to shake her off of him, banging into the shelves behind him.

Hermione bit her lip and, with much thought put into it, struck Malfoy across the face. However, Hermione fist barely grazed Malfoy's nose, which seemed to infuriate him more. Malfoy struggled more to push Hermione off of him, causing some of the items on the shelf to fall and shatter.

"Hermione!" screamed Ron, rushing towards her, but, too late; a small vial had tipped over on the shelf, smashing, but it's contents oozed downward, enveloping Malfoy and Hermione with thick, gray goop.

There was a loud sizzling noise, and everyone looked toward Hermione and Malfoy. The sizzling grew louder and louder until finally – _CRACK!_

Everyone gaped in horror at Hermione and Malfoy.

**Tayz:**

**A/N:** Yes, we're evil. Cliffhangers are our best friend. Except for when we're not the one writing them. Alrighty, I'm rather proud of this chapter so I hope you like it! **Please review!** I need some feedback! I wrote this chapter, and ms.understood is writing the next! We're probably going to switch off. Toodles!

**ms. understood:**

**A/N**: Yes, well, **Tayz** basically wrote the whole damn thing because she has the patience of an emu, but that's okay. I still love her. Next one might be a bit different (suckier) because yours truly will be writing a fair bit of it. But I hope you enjoyed the chapter and let us know what you think. (And don't listen if my co-author says I don't have any confidence and am actually a good writer. Believe me, I'm not.) So, look for the next installment soon, because, as I've said, patience of an emu and all that jazz

**Tayz: **Shut up, Nicole. Yes you are. Yes she is, readers.

**REVIEW!**


	2. Speak Now, or Forever Hold Your Peace

"**A Shove Towards Insanity"**

By

**Tayz**

&

**Ms. Understood**

**Very special thanks for our lovely 24 reviews go to:** victoria, Princess Bryceida of England, seghen, KatieBell90099, finally-defeated, AniDragon, aka Riona-chan, kaycomon, D'Quer Jyi-Weil, astraeos, DanRadcliffe5666, HelioLaughter, Michelle, Janine, runaway mental patient, darkpyrogoddess374, BabyTill4, animeluvr8, strawberryblueberrykitten, LadyMalfoy730, melissafelton-622, shedraconis, PirateQueenHwore, xblonde.chickx, and cole graham!

**A/N:** Hello all! I was IMMENSLY pleased at the amount of reviews for chapter 1! Just ask everybody who had the misfortune of calling me :p. It made me so incredibly happy, you wouldn't believe it. I'm so glad that you all appreciated the first chapter as much as I did, because I was particularly proud of that chapter! Hopefully, you guys will love the second just the same! **Nicole** and **I** are _both_ wrote this chapter, so it should be extra-yummy. School starts for **me** on the 25th of August, and** Nicole** goes back sooner, but I can't remember the exact date, so we have plenty of time to get lots of chapters in! Ok, onto the chapter! Have fun and **REVIEW!**

Thank you to **astraeos** for BETAing!

**Chapter 2 – "Speak Now, or Forever Hold Your Peace"**

"_Hmmmm. Draco quit it!"_

"_Quit what?'_

"_That…ohhh…yes, that!"_

_Giggling echoed through the vast walls, reverberating off of them and creating an eerie shreaking._

"_Yes? Do it? Okay."_

"_Draco!"_

_More giggling._

"_Oh, stop, you know that you –"_

_**Crack!**_

"Get of me, Mudblood! Off, I say! For the last time!"

Hermione continued her attempt at strangling the boy beneath her, ignoring his screaming threats. After all, hadn't he just tried to perform an _Unforgivable Curse _on them? What did he _expect_ her to do? Hermione dug her dull nails into the side of Malfoy's neck, ignoring the resulting shrieks of pain and indignation

Hermione released one of her arms from holding down Malfoy's shoulder, groping around to her right for something that could restrain Malfoy to give her aching arms a break. Her fingers trailed over something incredibly soft and cushy, and she seized it within her palm.

Hermione held the satin pillow over Malfoy's face, her hope being that the temporary blindness would cause his retaliation to simmer. Malfoy's struggling increased for a minute before slowly, very slowly, coming to a complete halt. Hermione froze, her face etched in terror that she had actually _suffocated _theboy. His eyes were wide, his mouth hung slack, and he didn't seem to be breathing.

Horrified, she clambered off him and knelt by his head and slapped his face lightly. His eyes remained fixed above.

"Oh my goodness," she whispered, frantically slapping his increasingly pale face with a little more force. "Oh, goodness, Malfoy, wake up! _Please_ wake up!"

Hermione went to slap him again when abruptly, a hand shot up and grasped Hermione's tiny wrist with a startlingly tight grip. She gasped in pain and surprise as Malfoy's steel gray eyes locked with her own chocolate-brown ones.

"Malfoy, let go!" she pleaded angrily, though inside she was overwhelmed with relief that she hadn't just murdered him.

"Oh, now you want _me_ to let go?" Malfoy said through gritted teeth, but he thrust Hermione's wrist from his hand as though it were a poisonous spider.

Malfoy whispered a swear and sat up, knocking Hermione onto her back. She stared in satisfaction at all of the red, half-moon nail marks populated Malfoy's neck from where she had grasped him so desperately. Hermione looked up to see Malfoy staring at her in what seemed to be pure disgust, and she gave him a severe look.

"What are you staring at, Malfoy?" she asked rudely, her eyes narrowed.

It was only then that she realised that Draco's top half was completely bare; his moonlight-pale skin somehow glowing on its own accord, matched with satin green boxers. Hermione looked down at her own body and shrieked; she was in her _underwear_!

All that Hermione wore was a plain, white cotton bra and matching knickers; nothing else. Panicking, she thrust up the sheets around her with such force that she sent Malfoy, who was sitting atop of them, toppling off the side of the bed, entangling himself in the curtains that surrounded them.

_Curtains?_

Hermione shrieked again, realising for the first time that she was in a _completely_ different place then she was five minutes ago. Her heart started to pound hard against her chest, her ears humming in fright.

_Where were they? Just a bit ago they were in Snape's house! She was there! She remembered Harry and Ron…_

Now starting to panic as unconceivable thoughts raced through her head like wildfire, she barely registered Malfoy, still tangled in the curtains, kicking and screaming like a two-year old. There was a _snap_; the curtains had detached themselves from the wooden pole from which it once hung due to the combined weight of Malfoy and his blind flailing.

There had to be a logical explanation for this. There always was. Quickly racking her brain for possible causes, Hermione blamed the only factor she could think of that could cause this.

"What did you do, Malfoy?" she demanded, gathering the sheets more securely around her so she could peer angrily over the edge of the bed at the knotted wrap that was Malfoy.

The boy stopped screaming abruptly and looked up at her indignantly through the curtains.

"What did _I_ do? What did _you_ do?"

Hermione glared at him furiously, an expression of disbelief on her face. "Come off it, you know perfectly well I did nothing! Now tell me what _you_ did!"

Draco sneered at her, the effect somewhat dimmed as he fell over, wrapped into the curtains, his green boxers poking out between the folds of crimson fabric.

Hermione smirked in satisfaction. "Hah! So you _aren't_ denying you did this!"

"What? No, this is your fault, you filthy scum!"

"It is _not_!"

"It is too!"

"Oh, shut up Malfoy! Either you're a lying bit of filth, or neither of us did anything." She snorted disbelievingly at the latter. Still holding the sheets around her half-naked body, Hermione pulled back the remainder of the curtains so she could observe her surroundings. The hangings were velvet and just as impossibly soft as the pillow Hermione had almost suffocated Malfoy with. She glanced around, more curious then frightened, now. The first thing she registered was that the room in which she and Malfoy were currently in was enormous; long and spacious, it gave off a feeling of a warmly-decorated dungeon. She was sitting on an extremely large, luxurious, oak bed, surrounded by the crimson curtains that hung from thick, polished wooden poles.

"Where _are_ we?" Hermione whispered, not really expecting an answer from Malfoy.

"How the fuck should I know, Mudblood? Now help me out of these damned curtains!" Malfoy was even more twisted up in the fabric then before, so that he looked like a rather large, misshapen pretzel.

Hermione quirked an eyebrow at him, "Oh, yes, and I am _definitely_ going to help you if you address me like that," she said sarcastically, but her intended intimidating effect was rendered useless as she began to giggle; the only parts of Malfoy that you could see was his left leg, which was sticking out at an odd angle, and one piercing grey eye, which was currently giving Hermione the death glare.

"Fine, _Granger_," he said, emphasizing her surname, "will you _please_ help me out of these damned curtains?"

In anybody else's hands, the emphasized _please_ would have come across as a polite redemption from rudeness, but of course, Malfoy managed to completely twist the effect around.

"Fine," she said grudgingly.

Hermione crawled over to the side of the bed and gave the curtains a yank.

Malfoy was literally spun out of his cocoon as Hermione tugged the curtains up to above her head, landing with a painful sounding _thud_ as he hit the wooden floor. His white-blonde hair completely ruffled, he re-adjusted himself with difficulty, finally standing and snaching the blanket from her limp fingers and throwing it over himself. Hermione scowled at his lack of gratitude, but after all, she didn't expect anything more of Malfoy.

Malfoy adjusted the curtains around himself and stalked off without a backward glance to Hermione.

"Where are you going?" she asked indignantly.

"Away."

"Away _where_?"

"Away from you, Mudblood."

Hermione gaped at him, fury surging through her veins, "Malfoy! We haven't a clue where we are! Like it or not, I think we should stick together!"

She heard Malfoy scoff, but before she could persuade him to stay, he had dissapeared through the large doorway, signing his departure with a loud slam.

Hermione's heart started to race again, panicing at the loss of her only companion, even if it _was_ Malfoy. She tightened the sheets around her form and stood up with difficulty, her warm feet meeting the cooling sensation of the wooden floor.

"Ok," she said quietly to herself, "Ok, just calm down. _Calm Down_."

Hermione looked around the large room, her curious nature yearning to poke around. She tripped of the end of the sheets wrapped around her, and first decided that she should look for something to put over herself. She located the first large, wooden black door on her right, and moved towards it on a whim. Hermione grasped the handle, which she noticed seemed to be made of solid crystal, and pushed open the heavy door.

Hermione slammed the door back shut behind her and gasped; the room in which she had entered was only slightly smaller than the room in which she had just left. The walls were solid white, but its eye-sore effect was dimmed considerably due to the fact that they were almost entirely covered with multi-coloured fabrics. At the very end of the long, rectangular room, stuck to the flat of the wall, was a large, beautiful mirror. The glass was print-less, it's surface as smooth as could be. The mirror's frame was a golden archway, little curls around its edges. The golden archway was littered with fancy engravings, none of which were in English.

Hermione stared around in complete and utter awe that a single person could possibly own such an utterly _ridiculous_ amount of clothes.

_Who _needs_ all of this?_

Nevertheless, Hermione _was_ seeking clothes, and this was certainly the right place to achieve such a task. Sighing and not paying too much attention to the mirror at the end of the closet (if you could call it that), Hermione began to search through the fascade of clothing, most of which were simple, yet elegant dress robes, which Hermione took to immediately. However, she didn't even know whose beautiful robes these _were_, and she certainly wasn't going to ruin them by tramping about carelessly.

Hermione skipped some sections and immediately made her way to the front of the closet, hoping to find an older, less dressy something that she could borrow. To her delight, there were indeed a very small number of duller robes, which were stuffed percariously in the corner, hoarded by all of its heavier, fancier mates. Hermione pulled out a simple, slightly dusty black robe, looking as though it hadn't been worn in a long while. She exaimed it closely, and found to her surprise that an emblem was sewn onto the chest.

A _Hogwarts_ emblem. These were _Hogwarts School Robes_!

So this woman, whoever she was, went to Hogwarts? For some reason, this little detail calmed Hermione immensly, putting to rest the butterflies that were flapping around so frantically in her belly. Hermione let the sheets around her fall, and began to unbutton the robes.

The mirror, which Hermione had still not paid very much attention to, was observing Hermione, in her knickers and bra, critically, taking in her unruly hair, and her rather boyish figure.

"I keep saying, dearie, with a dab of makeup and some hair solution, you'd be quite a flattering young lady," the mirror spoke in a heavy French accent; it sounded accusatory.

Hermione shrieked, clutching the half-unbuttoned robes in front of her like a shield, and looking around frantically.

"My, my, rather jumpy today, aren't we, dearie?"

Hermione stared at the mirror, realxing now. Oh, that had given her _such_ a fright.

"Oh! Hello! I – I'm sorry, I didn't notice you there. What's your name?" Hermione breathed, her heart still pounding and her breathing rather quicker than normal.

"You didn't notice me here?" questioned the mirror in an exasperated voice. "My dear, you must be losing your memory, musn't you?" It chuckled at its own joke.

"Excuse me?" asked Hermione politely, still clutching the robes in front of her.

"Well, love, you see me everyday, don't you? Perhaps even more on occasion," the mirror has dropped its exasperated air, and instead adopted a simpering, almost sympathetic voice, as though Hermione were mental.

"Oh, no, you see, this is a mistake. I'm not even supposed to _be_ here," said Hermione.

"You're not supposed to be in your own manor? Whatever do you mean?" This time, the mirror sounded genuienly confused.

"My own – what? No, no, this is _not_ my manor," Herione explain in a logicaly patient voice, "something – or _someone_ – brought us here by mistake – or we think, anyway."

"Us?"

"Yes!" Hermione said, starting to becoming less patient and more aggravated. What was this mirror playing at? This was not her manor…she did not live here. "Us! Me and Malfoy!"

"Malfoy? As in Draco Malfoy?" the mirror questioned, and if it had had a face, Hermione was sure one of its eyebrows would be raised in question.

Hermione paused, shocked; she had not expected this.

"You know him? You know who he is?" her voice was close to pleading; maybe they _finally_ had an idea of where they were.

"Of course I know him, dearie," said the mirror in smart tones.

"Oh! Well, goodness! Do you know where we are? Do you know a way to get out; get back where we were before?"

There was a long silence, in which Hermione was peering hopefully at the mirror, excitement and anticipation flooding her veins.

Seemingly deciding to play along, the mirror answered, "Yes, dearie. You are in the Malfoy Manor."

The excitement halted, and Hermione felt her heart drop into her stomach, her insides seizing up with cold fear.

"This is the Malfoy Manor?" Hermione whispered, petrified.

_But wait,_ she thought, _hadn't Malfoy not recognised the place? Hadn't he said that he didn't know where they were? _

_Maybe he was lying…maybe he _did_ bring you here. It could be a trap…_

The thought made Hermione feel queasy.

"Well," the mirror chuckled, "technically, the Malfoy-_Granger_ Manor. Pardon me."

At the sound of her name Hermione's head snapped up, glaring at the mirror with hardened eyes.

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh, really, Mrs. Malfoy, this has gone far enough! Is this some sort of game?" the mirror sounded amused.

"No! No, this is not a joke! This is –" Hermione stopped, registering what the mirror had just said, "what did you call me?"

The mirror sighed, "Very well, dearie, if you insist, I will continue with your game. I said, 'Mrs. Malfoy.'"

"I am _not_ Mrs. Malfoy," Hermione said, in a spiteful tone very much unlike her normal, sweet-natured one.

"Yes, dearie, you _are_! Honestly, Hermione, do you really find this amusing?"

"How do you know my name?" demanded Hermione, really startled this time.

The mirror sighed yet again, "I don't know what you're playing at, dearie, but I am getting quite tired of it."

"I'm not playing at _anything!_" said Hermione, tears filling her eyes. "Something happened! In Snape's house! Malfoy – I – I jumped on him – he almost – _Cruciatus!_ – and I –" she was now sobbing hysterically, sinking to her knees and burying her face into the robes clasped between her fingers.

"Oh, there, there, my dear! Do not cry!" said the mirror in a consolling, motherly voice.

"I can't help it," Hermione said thickly, her voice muffled by the fabric. "I don't know where I am, Malfoy deserted me…"

There was yet another silence.

Finally, the mirror spoke, "Listen to me, my dear. Look up, now."

Hermione slowly looked up into the mirror, observing her own red, swollen eyes and the tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Good girl," the mirror spoke in a soft voice. "Now, dry those tears, my dear,"

Hermione dabbed the edges of her eyes with the Hogwart's Robe, trying to control her breathing.

"Now listen to me," it said in a serious tone, "Listen very closely, dearie. I'm not sure what has happened to you, but you need to know: This is _your_ manor. I am _your_ mirror –"

"Wait, you must be –" Hermione tried to interupt desperatley, but the mirror sushed her.

"Please, let me finish," it said, "your name is Hermione Granger-Malfoy and you are the wife of Draco Malfoy."

Hermione had heard the mirror, but easily scoffed off the ludricous accusation. "No, _dearie_, I am not married. I'm merely seventeen years old. First off, I would never get married this young, and second off, I would _never_ marry _him_!"

"You did – to both statements." The mirror replied.

"I did NOT! This is a mistake! I'm not supposed to be here!" Salty tears resumed their trailing down Hermione's already soaked cheeks.

"My dear," said the mirror kindly, "I obviously cannot persuade you."

"No, you obviously can't!" snapped Hermione.

"Then you will find out for yourself, I trust." The mirror sounded tired.

Not knowing what to say (for once in her life), Hermione slipped the robes over her head and buttoned them up, trying to stop herself from shaking.

Once she was completely covered, Hermione swept her bushy hair carelessly out of her eyes, and turned to exit the closet. Before she turned the handle on which she had placed her hand, she looked around her shoulder at the mirror.

"You never told me your name," she said in a quiet voice.

"Cosette," the mirror answered after a moment's pause.

Without answering, Hermione left the room and shut the door behind her.

Hermione half-ran towards the door she had seen Draco disappear through, but before she had so much as touched the identical crystal handle, she stopped, peering at the obvious engravings that shimmered ominously.

"Wow…" Hermione whispered, tracing her fingers along what seemed to be a shield. Bending forward, she saw that it in fact _was_ a shield. The top of the shield bore a great lion's head, whose mouth was agape in a roar. Coming from either sides of this lion were two, equally great white wings. The wings, however fine, were ruffled, as though just having escaped a treacherous storm.

The shield itself was outlined with a gleaming band of colour, seemingly, however impossible it may sound, to be a mixture of both dark maroon and striking green. At the very bottom, two wands were crossed, one giving off red sparks, the other green. A snake, its colour almost identical to the green which resided in the outlining band, was curled around the outer edge of the shield, its faded red tongue tasting the air, and it's long, boneless body grazing two letters, which were imprinted in fancy, old English text. The letters, from what Hermione could see, were giving off the same maroon _and_ green shimmer. Looking closer, Hermione made out the letters _G – M._

Her heart sank, cursing her natural ability to put two and two together. Pushing it out of her mind, Hermione opened the door and ran out of the room.

"No, I'm not stopping," she said to herself, shielding her eyes from all of the fascinating things that the room she had entered possessed. "I am not looking. Just move on, Hermione."

But as she skidded to a halt outside the room; she had to suck in a breath of admiration. She stood in a large circular hall, surrounded by mahogany and cheery wood doors. The walls were painted in a pale yellow and seemed to shimmer in the shafts of sunlight pouring from large, French windows squeezed between every fourth door.

But the centre of Hermione's attention was the enormous spiral staircase that seemed to pour from the centre of the room itself. Polished cherry wood was carved in a beautiful design of snakes submerged in roses, their eyes glinting in a darker rowan wood. They wound up the poles, staring out at the bright cheery room almost as if in disdain, constricting around the roses possessively.

Mesmerized, and a bit in awe, Hermione reached out a hand and touched the banister. It was cold, but the wood gave off an illusion of warmth; reminding Hermione of winter nights in the Gryffindor common room. The snakes remained glaring at the yellow walls and bright sunlight, but she swore a tail or two twitched at her touch. Ripping her gaze away from the beautiful creatures, she took a step downwards, reluctant to leave the enchanting fairytale tower. If this was really her manor…well….she supposed she could get use to it.

The next floor appeared to be identical; the only differences being the window seats and bookshelves attempting to claim space between the unending mysterious doors. It actually reminded her of the Department of Mysteries, only infinitely less foreboding and terrifying. Out of the corner of her eye, she could make out the edge of a tail whipping around and down the staircase behind her, and she increased her pace. Even though the carvings were gorgeous, they spooked the part of her brain that was still entirely Muggle.

Though she hated to admit it even to herself, Hermione was curious about this manor, and couldn't resist exploring further. Unfortunately, the more floors she passed, the more she was forced to admit: the recurrence of the initials G and M, as well as the blending of red and green along with lions and serpents, was just too coincidental to be purely a mistake.

She paused for a moment, wondering where Malfoy had run off too. If he had gotten lost already….well, she certainly wasn't going to be able to find him. This looked like her best bet to getting the hell out of this whole mess, and she was guessing Malfoy had seen that too.

A few floors later, she was starting to wonder if she'd ever find a way out. Her feet were starting to slow again and the hand on the railing had fallen to her side at some point. Wishing there was someway of speeding her descent up, she racked her brain. Suddenly, the girl's feet stopped and she let out a light laugh, despite her opposite mood. Of course! Grinning to herself, she threw a leg over the railing and lowered her bottom to the wood behind her. Her toes gently skimming the tops of the stairs, and she pushed off.

Hermione flew down the never ending staircase in tight, wild circles, her robes streaming out behind her in a black swirl of fabric. She clutched the railing ahead as it skimmed by in a blur of colour and held back a shriek as she soared off the end of the wooden beam and onto a hard stone floor.

Hm…Maybe that hadn't been the best idea.

Comforted by the fact that no one had seen her, she stood up, brushing herself off impatiently and looking around at the place in which she had so clumsily stumbled, and promptly fell back over in shock.

In a great towering doorway, again in mahogany polished wood was the largest crest yet. It soared above her head, split down the middle of the great doors. This was the same crest that she had seen up in the room that she had just left. And as she looked around, she noticed that the crests were entailed upon every single door.

"_No!_" She whispered angrily, whipping out her wand, wanting to blow up the wretched shield in her fury. This was _insane_! This was ludicrous, even! Not a part of her believed what the mirror had told her. Not _one_ part!

However, no wooden stick was enclosed by her fingers as she reached for it, and only for the first time did Hermione notice that she hadn't even _thought_ of her wand until now.

"Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no," Hermione wailed, starting to feel tears forming again. She was _wand-less? _Hermione was alone and wand-less in a place she had never seen before...and with Malfoy.

Standing up again, she pushed open the massive doors, which turned out to be lighter than she had anticipated. Some type of charm, no doubt.

If possible, Hermione's eyes widened even more at what lay behind the doors. An enormous Great Hall lay before her, easily the size of Hogwarts' dining hall and more. At one end, mammoth ceiling-to-floor windows let the setting sun slide over the table and ballroom style floor, flushing the walls in scarlet and gold.

Hermione gazed in wonder at the arched stone ceiling, spotting a few dragon shaped statues perched above in the rafters. It was a nice touch, and would have made her smile if it hadn't further implicated the crazy story the mirror had told her.

A sudden crash and a scream echoed through the Hall, breaking her mind out of its horrified stupor. She looked around, and noticed a smaller door (still bearing the crest) on the wall near the Great hall's doors. She ran over to it and wrenched it open, revealing a dark blue parlour decorated with crème sofas and blood-red armchairs. A cabinet in the corner was open, and Hermione could see liquor bottles and glasses stacked inside.

Malfoy.

Slowing her pace considerably, she took her time observing the room before continuing through the next door. The dark blue walls made the room appear smaller, giving it a cosy and lived-in appearance. The crème sofas and red armchairs lay scattered about in a semi-arranged pattern over the room, and Hermione saw a few coffee tables and card stands.

Finally deciding enough time had passed for Malfoy to have calmed sufficiently; she opened the next door, hoping he hadn't killed himself already.

Malfoy was standing inside another set of colossal doors which were thrown open to reveal

a gravel drive and rolling lawns, highlighted by the dying sun. He looked disheveled, his hair ruffled and his cheeks bleeding from multiple scratches. A smudge of dirt marred his nose, and his forehead was sweating profusely. There were several empty Firewhisky bottles near his feet and the remains of a broken one was raised in his left hand like a jagged knife. He brought it down again front of him where she couldn't see, and Hermione screamed.

"What are you doing?" she demanded angrily. The sharp glass was dropped to the floor and she sighed in half-relief. Malfoy turned slowly and raised his upper lip in a familiar sneer, although slightly lop-sided and pathetic looking.

Hermione resisted the urge to sneer right back at the smashed Slytherin. Conveniently, she failed to mention the crests, wondering if he had seen them or not. Still, every part of her was denying that anything was connected.

Suddenly, Malfoy took a running leap past the doors and collided with something that seemed extremely hard. He flew backwards past Hermione into a statue of a wizard near the door she had entered earlier. Not bothering to dust himself off, he repeated the process, and this time collided with Hermione herself.

They flew backwards into the door together, landing in a crumpled heap of legs and arms. Just as Malfoy pushed himself away from and moved to get back up, swaying slightly and a look of terror in his grey eyes, Hermione yanked him back down.

"What on earth is going on?" she demanded furiously. Anger was searing through her, and for some reason she wanted to pound Malfoy to a bloody pulp.

His pupils were large and grotesquely dilated and his breath stank of whisky, but he seemed to understand that this was a deadly serious matter. Of course, this sudden understanding may have had something to do with the knee Hermione had positioned over a certain part of his body. "I don't kno', Grang'r. I've been runnin at it for the la' hour. It won't let me through." He latched onto her shoulders, "Why won' it lemme through?"

"I don't know, Malfoy! Let me up." She shook his hands from her and clambered to her feet. What was going on? Why wouldn't it let Malfoy through? Would it let her?

Abruptly, Draco grabbed her hand and rushed at the doors again, a crazed look in his eyes. Before she could react, even to pull her hand away from his death-grip, they had landed back in a heap against the far wall.

Hermione raised her head weakly and kicked out a Malfoy's shin spitefully. He turned over and blinked rapidly, his sour breath blowing in her face. Ignoring the rotten stench, she glared at the blond.

"Malfoy, what was the _point _of that? Are you trying to get us killed?"

"I thoug't migh lemme through if I 'ad a sac'rific."

**A/N**:

**Tayz: **So? What did you think? Yay? Neh? Ew please burn this:p Ok, I'm going to steal something from **cyropi** and start asking questions at the end of each chapter. First question, of course: **What did you think of the chapter and where do we need improvement?** Second question: I'm about to go into high school, and only two (me included) out of 5 of my best friends are going to the same school. Frankly, I'm terrified we'll lose base, because these people are my heroes and I don't know WHAT I'd do with out them. Anyone ever lost a good friend whilst changing schools? Please tell stories! Oh, by the way. Things WILL be explained in the next chapter. The barrier, I know, is extremely confusing.

**Ms. Understood**: Nicole has school tomorrow (poor lamb) and she wasn't able to write one now, but she shall tomorrow! Look for it!

**REVIEW!**


	3. Denial, Not Just A River In Egypt

"**A Shove Towards Insanity"**

By

**Tayz**

&

**Ms. Understood**

**Very special thanks for our lovely 56 reviews go to: **Rajalily, Ancient Alchemy, kutless4u , RavenclawPrincess13, pat-nosferatu, Wingsofthefae, Bookworm1214, blueskyshymoon08, Sunflower18, SweetBby624, elektrikstormFelicia, QueenofDarkness588, Katie Bell90099, pinkharry, finally-defeated, AniDragon, aka Riona-chan, Jess, Michelle, lalala, hmmm, DanRadcliffe5666, melissafelton-622, cole graham, PirateQueenHwore, TopazOwl, Keladryie, astraeos, animeluvr8, and Sabine Strohem-Moss.

**A/N (Taylor): **A/N: Hey, hey! How are you all?. I was very happy with reviews! Nicole, too! You have no idea how much is means to us! Thank you! huggles reviewers

School isn't being too harsh on me, but Nicole is swamped, but on weekends we're good. I doubt we'll set a scheduled update date, but you never know. I'll tell you guys if we do. So it shouldn't be TOO long in-between updates; we'll try our best. Alrighty, I don't think there's really anything left to say, so, have fun!** REVIEW!**

**A/N (Nicole): **You know, it wasn't until I actually had to copy and paste all the reviewers in here at three in the morning that I actually started to really comprehend how many readers this seems to have. Just WOW. You all get hugs and back rubs from me. **Review MORE: They're in you to give.**

Thank you to **Fuego del Cielo **for Betaing! (We loff our Leah!)

**Chapter 3 – "Denial, Not Just A River In Egypt"**

Hermione's face reddened with anger and impatience; this was so _typical_ of him! How could he be so _irresponsible_ at a time like this? How on earth would that help them?

She pushed herself up, straightening the front of her robe and walking in front of the door where the invisible barrier was.

Hermione pressed her hand lightly against it. The barrier traced a glowing outline around her hand as she put weight on it, but it remained as solid and un-go-through-able as ever. She groaned loudly in frustration and kicked it.

"LET ME OUT!" Hermione screamed angrily, straightening her arms and pushing as hard as she could.

Suddenly there was a horrible retching sound behind her and Hermione turned around to find Malfoy on his knees, leaning over what was unmistakably a large pile of sick and groaning in agony.

Hermione turned away in disgust and shut her eyes, trying not to vomit herself.

_Oh, just perfect…_

"Wonderful, Malfoy, just wonderful," she snapped, trying to breathe through her mouth so she wouldn't have to inhale the ghastly fumes.

"Shut it, Granger!" Malfoy snarled back, breathing heavily.

_Well, at least that sobered him up a bit…_

"No! I will _not_ 'shut it'!" Hermione shouted, her shrill voice piercing even her own ears, "I _refuse_ to be stuck here, Malfoy! I REFUSE!"

She stalked away from him, making her way over to the nearest latch window and opening it.

She tried to climb through, but was blocked.

"No!" she gasped desperately, climbing down and running to the next window; that, too, was guarded. Hermione ran to every window, every door, but nothing would let her through.

For the third time, she started to cry, having circled back to where Malfoy now lay on his back, the pool of sick still there.

She slumped against the wall, sliding down to the floor and pulling her knees to her chest.

"What are we going to do?" she whispered, her voice shaking, "it won't let us out. This _house_ won't let us leave."

Malfoy didn't answer; merely laid there with his hand over his eyes.

The two of them sat there for what seemed like an eternity; Hermione still sobbing and Malfoy still groaning softly.

"Will you shut the bloody hell up, Granger? It's disgusting!" Malfoy finally spoke, not taking his hand from his eyes.

Hermione glared at him with her red, swollen eyes. "Well, I'm sorry, but I can't help it! We're stuck, Malfoy! We don't know where we are!" she sobbed, unable to cease the flow of salty tears rushing down her brown cheeks.

Malfoy gave his loudest groan yet and, with what seemed like immense effort, pushed himself to his feet and walked sullenly into the next room.

"_Now_ where are you going?" Hermione cried; even if this was Malfoy, she didn't want to be by herself.

Malfoy didn't answer, and Hermione watched as he disappeared around the corner. Muttering furiously under her breath she too pushed herself up and sprinted after him.

"Well I don't know what to do! How can you be so…so calm?" she demanded.

"You're supposed to be the brain, Mudblood! You come up with a solution!" Malfoy spat, ignoring Hermione's question.

Hermione bit her lip.

"I've _tried_," she said, though she knew it wasn't true. The whole ordeal had been way too upsetting for her brain to work straight. Especially after the mirror.

"Oh? What have you done, then?" Malfoy was glaring at her, and Hermione was startled to see that such a nasty look was possible from a human being.

"I…er…" she began helplessly, "I…well, I--"

Malfoy smirked, "Precisely."

He then turned from her and proceeded to walk to wherever he thought he was going.

Hermione was about to persist that they find a way _together_ (thought the idea of working together with a Death Eater made her feel sick), when she spotted something most unusual:

A telephone.

The first thought that made its way to Hermione's numb brain was _'Why in the world is there a telephone in a wizard's house? Muggle items don't _work_ in the wizarding world…'_

However, this oh-so-logical thought was pushed away as excitement replaced that wretched fear.

She ran to the wall on which the phone hung and seized it, wrenching it off of its cradle. Without bothering to tell Malfoy, she hurriedly, with shaking fingers, dialled the first number that came to her mind.

Unfortunately, just as Murphy's Law demands, no one answered. It was strange, because Hermione's parents were always home by sunset. Instead, the slightly of voice of a answering machine squawked in her ear, as if the speaker was talking through a tin can. It was a man's voice, one she wasn't familiar with, and definitely not her father's deep rusty boom.

"…Hello? Is this thing on? Oh. Hello, you've reached the Harrisons, we're not able to answer the phone right now but- oh for heaven's sake! Lizzy! Stop colouring on daddy's shoe! Meryl! She's doing it again! Stop he---beeeppp." The man's voice was suddenly cut off, the recording track having run out. But that wasn't what was bothering Hermione.

The Harrisons? She quickly hung up.

Had she misdialled?

Mentally berating herself for being so clumsy, she carefully pressed in each button on the phone until her entire number had been dialled.

Almost as soon as it began to ring again, a child's voice answered. Surprised, Hermione recalled that all her cousins young enough to sound like that hadn't visited her parents in years.

Why would a child be answering their phone? Shrugging it off as coincidence, she spoke politely into the receiver.

"Hello, it's Hermione, can you please put one of my parents on?"

"'Cuse me Miss Harmony, but I think you have the wrong num'er."

"It's Hermione--and of course I don't have the wrong _number_, I happen to have a fantastic memory--and to my knowledge, my parents haven't changed their telephone number in twenty years."

"But I don't have any sisters…I think…" She sounded confused, but then immediately brightened. "You can be my sister though! I'm Lizzy, do you wanna come over and have a tea party? Mama makes the best cookies, and I'll let you sit next to Mrs. Honeysuckle! We can be best friends!"

Hermione smiled softly and chuckled. "That sounds wonderful Lizzy, but could I please ask why you're at my parents house?"

"I'm not. I'm at _my_ parents house."

"No. What's your address?" Hermione was starting to become frustrated, and it showed in the slight rise of her voice.

Lizzy recited in a slow, practiced monotone, quite unlike her cheery squeak from before.

"Number 5, Helen Lane, Manchester, England--hold on a minute, sissy--" Her voice was chirpy and excited again as she shouted for her mother.

Hermione distantly realized she was holding the phone away from her ear even in her state of shock, instinctively protecting her eardrums. What was going on? Why were strange people in her house? Over the extension, she could still hear Lizzy.

"Mama! My sister's on the phone! Wanna talk to her? She says her name's Harmony! Can she come over?"

And even more distantly, Hermione watched herself calmly hang up the phone, cutting off the little girl's incessant chatter. Though slightly disturbed by the apparent strangers in her parent's house, Hermione still fully believed that she has merely dialled the wrong number – twice.

On the other side of the country, Lizzy had stopped her screams to realize that 'Harmony' was gone and cried over the loss of her new found sibling.

In her confusion, Hermione looked around, noticing when she did that Malfoy had yet again disappeared.

It was then, however, when something caught her eye. Hermione wheeled around and spotted a laminated piece of parchment sealed on the wall right next to where the telephone was. It read, in small, neatly styled joined-up writing, which looked suspiciously identical to Hermione's:

**_Contact List_**

**_Ronald Weasley – 020 – 7726 – 7503_**

**_Parvati Patil – 020 – 7806 – 0837_**

**_Lavender Brown – 020 – 8301 – 8111_**

**_Luna Lovegood – 020 – 7960 - 7356_**

_**Neville Longbottom - 020 - 7689- 5430**_

Hermione stared, dumbstruck, at this list.

_All_ of her wizarding friends had phone numbers? _All_ of _her_ wizarding friends were listed in this _house_?

Confusion was sweeping through Hermione so viciously that she felt light-headed for a moment. She could even feel little beads of sweat returning to her hairline, her cheeks flushing a deep burgundy.

Out of pure curiosity, Hermione pulled the phone the receiver off its cradle once more, and dialled what was supposedly Ron Weasley's number.

It started to ring. Hermione could feel her heart beating beneath her robes as she waited in anticipation.

It rang, and rang, and rang, and rang, and just when Hermione was about to give up hope –

"Er – hello?"

Hermione gasped in a shuddering breath, nearly dropping the phone in surprise; it was Ron's voice.

"HELLO?" Ron shouted uncertainly.

"Ron!" Hermione breathed, "Ron! Oh, Ron, Ron – it's Hermione! Oh, Merlin, thank you…"

"Hermione? Is that you?" Ron obviously had not gotten the hang of this phone thing; he was still shouting.

"Yes! It's me! It's me! Oh, Ron, you have no idea how glad I am I've found you! Listen, something very wrong is happening."

"What?" he asked, sounding concerned. At least he had stopped shouting.

"I woke up – er, I guess I woke up – in a strange house, I –" she heard someone banging things around in the other room and she remembered, "Malfoy!"

"Er..._Malfoy_? Since when have you called him-"

"He's HERE, Ron! He's here! I woke up this morning and Malfoy and I were in this…this…place! None of us know where we are! We were just at Snape's house – fighting – and then –"

"Whoa, whoa," Ron interrupted, "What in Merlin's name are you going on about?"

"Remember? We went to find the horcrux at Snape's – wait! You were there, too! So how are you – and why do you have – you're supposed to be…" She started to sob for what seemed like the thousandth time that day. "What is going on?" Hermione asked, weakly.

"Hermione…" Ron said, very slowly and cautiously, "What are you on?"

"What? Nothing!" shrieked Hermione.

"Listen, where's Malfoy?"

"I don't know…" Hermione said, squeezing her eyes shut, "Hopefully somewhere far, far away."

There was short pause.

"Did you guys have a fight?" Ron asked, delicately.

"Er…nothing more than usual…" said Hermione, confused at Ron's tone. "Why?"

"What do you mean 'nothing more than usual'? You two hardly ever fight!"

"_What?_" asked Hermione incredulously, "Ron, this is _Malfoy_! We have always fought with _Malfoy_!"

"Why do you keep calling him 'Malfoy?'" Ron sounded highly confused.

"When have I called him anything else?" Hermione shrieked, her voice now shrill and impatient.

There was another pause, slightly longer this time. When Ron didn't say anything, Hermione broke the quiet angrily.

"Ron?"

"What?"

"Why aren't you saying anything?"

"Well…" he started, slowly, "Hermione, did you Obliviate yourself or something? Or did Malfoy?"

"What? No! I told you, I woke up here! We were at _Snape's_ house! Please, you don't remember?" she cried.

"Ok, Hermione, I think I'm going to come over," said Ron, alarmed, "I'll be there in a second."

"Ron! I don't even know where I _am!_ How are you supposed to know?"

"Hermione, you're calling from the manor. You're in your house. I'm coming over."

"BUT WE'RE SUPPOSED TO BE AT SNAPE'S HOUSE!" Hermione screamed, still sobbing hysterically.

"………I'll be there in a second, Hermione. Just hold on." Ron then hung up.

"No! Ron! Don't hang up! Come back! Please!"

The phone started to beep in her ear, telling Hermione that Ron had already gone.

Placing the phone back on its support, Hermione closed her eyes softly and tried desperately to calm herself by breathing.

_In through the nose, out through the mouth… In through the nose, out through the mouth…_

'_Ok…' _she told herself, leaning against the wall, _'Ok…Ron seems to know where I am. He's coming; it'll be ok once Ron gets here.'_

She continued her breathing exercises, as they seemed to be working; her heart had stopped pounding against her chest, and her tears had ceased.

"Hermione?"

Hermione's eyes shot open.

"Hermione? Where are – UGH!"

_Ron!_

Hermione pushed herself off the wall and sprinted back to the main hall, where she found Ron laying on his back, his face green, have slipped and fallen into Malfoy's pool of sick. Hermione stared at him.

Ron pushed himself up, looked at Hermione, and vomited right next to the mess Malfoy had already made.

Hermione _really_ had to stop herself from copying him as well, having already seen enough vomit for one day.

"Hi, Ron!" said Hermione in a forced cheery voice.

Ron glared at her. "Whose. Is. This?" he asked through gritted teeth, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his robe and pointing at Malfoy's pile.

"Malfoy's," said Hermione, and actually felt herself giggle for what seemed like the first time in ages.

Ron clamped his mouth shut, seemingly restraining himself from vomiting again. "Why didn't anyone clean it up?" he asked, annoyed.

"Well, it's been a bit of a hectic morning, Ronald!" said Hermione, sounding equally rattled.

Ron glared at her.

_Honestly, he can be so childish sometimes…_

"Well can you at least clean _me_ up?" Ron requested sarcastically.

"Um, yes, of course I can," she was about to reach for her wand when she remembered, "Oh! I forgot I don't have my wand…"

"Well then go get it, please?" said Ron impatiently.

"Ron! I can't! When I woke up I realised I didn't have it!" Hermione said.

Ron rolled his eyes, pulling out his own wand. "_Accio Hermione's Wand!" _

In turn, Hermione rolled her eyes back, "It's not here, Ron, I don't-" She was cut off as something hard smacked her across the forehead and then clattered to the floor.

Hermione shook her head to rid her eyes of the colourful stars and looked down.

_It was her wand!_

She gasped and bent to pick it up. There it was, all polished and shiny, every detail intact.

"How did you know it was here?" Hermione asked Ron, grinning.

"Just please clean me up first, I feel faint," he replied in a monotonous voice.

"Okay, come here."

Ron teetered his way over to Hermione and turned so his back was facing her. She furrowed her brow in revoultion, but held her wand to the sick and said, "_Scourgify!"_

The nasty substance cleared up at once, leaving Ron's robes as dry and fresh as ever.

She then pointed her wand around Ron towards the pile of vomit, and this time said, "_Evanesco!_"

The conjoined pile vanished as quickly as Ron's robes had, which left the marble floor shiny and clean.

"Thank you," said Ron, grudgingly.

"WAIT!" shrieked Hermione suddenly, making Ron jump a foot into the air.

"What?"

"How did you get through the door?" Hermione demanded. _They_, Hermione and Malfoy, hadn't been able to get anywhere _near_ it because of the barrier.

Ron looked at her as thought she had finally snapped.

"Well, you see, it's a thing we do called 'walking' –"

"Oh, shut up!" Hermione snapped impatiently, "I meant, whenever Malfoy and I tried to get out there was something there blocking us! But then you just walked right in!"

"Oh, so you _were_ fighting?" said Ron in an all-knowing voice.

Hermione stared at him with a quizzical expression, "Pardon?"

"Well, the barrier only activates itself if one of you is trying to leave the house without any intention of coming back, doesn't it?" Ron replied, "And why wouldn't you want to come back if you hadn't had a fight?"

Hermione continued to stare, her mouth slightly open and her brows furrowed in utter confusion.

However, when she thought about it, what Ron had said made sense. Both Malfoy and Hermione were desperately trying to get _out_ of the house and neither of them had any desire to ever return…

"But how do you know about that?" asked Hermione slowly.

Ron rolled his eyes again and sighed, grabbing Hermione by the arm and leading her into a sitting room. She was surprised that he didn't seem to have any trouble finding his way about the house.

He sat her down on a large, vintage-looking sofa, and he seated himself next to her.

"Ok, Hermione, what's going on?" he asked in a polite voice.

"I told you over the phone," said Hermione, "I woke up in a strange bed – with _Malfoy_ – and the only thing I remember is you, me, Harry, Tonks, Kingsley, and Lupin at Snape's house. Then Malfoy and Wormtail were there and I jumped on Malfoy…" she strained her memory, "and that's all I remember."

"Hermione," said Ron in a delicate voice, "that was _five_ years ago."

Hermione stared at him, "No, it wasn't," she said, laughing uncertainly. "It _just_ happened, Ron!"

The two both turned their heads as they heard footsteps joining them in the sitting room.

"_Weasley? _What the fuck are you doing here?" Draco's snarling voice filled their ears, and Hermione and Ron both looked at him.

"What the hell's your problem?" asked Ron, incredulously.

Hermione gave Ron a pointed look; why did he look so taken aback? Malfoy had never been exactly…polite to them.

Draco came to a halt in front of Ron and sneered down at him, "My problem, Weasley? My _problem_ is first being stuck in this hellish house with the Mudblood, and then I find out I've got another third of the Dream Team to deal with. Next thing I know, Potter will be here." Suddenly, his face paled. "He's not, is he?"

Ron looked surprised. "Harry? No he- Wait. What is going on here? Is this some sort of joke? Because, believe me, it is not funny. Hermione, what're you playing at?"

Hermione drew in a deep breath and started to explain yet again, "We were at Snape's house, and I jumped on Malfoy. You were there! And then we were here, in a bed, together. We didn't notice for a few minutes until after I killed Malfoy and -"

Ron's red eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. "Hang on. Did you just say you killed Malfoy? Then what's he," Ron jabbed a finger over his shoulder at Malfoy, "A ghost?"

Malfoy broke in, shoving the other man's finger away from his person roughly with a look of disgust on his pale, pointed face. "Didn't your mother ever tell you it's rude to point, Weasel? Then again with your-"

Hermione and Ron both glared at him simultaneously. "Shut up, Malfoy!"

Hermione continued, turning her back on Malfoy pointedly. "Anyway, so, after I _thought_ I had killed Malfoy, he buggered off somewhere, and I met this mirror. She tried to convince me that we--" She gestured between the blond and herself --"we're married, of all things! So I stormed out, came down here, and find this prat bouncing off the walls, literally, drunk! Then that barrier thing wouldn't let us out and Malfoy threw up and I misdialled my parents' phone number twice and then I called you and now you're here and Malfoy's a prat and…" She broke off her rant and gulped down air into her rapidly constricting lungs, the pressure making it harder to breathe. Ron handed her a goblet of water from the pitcher on the table next to him, and she swallowed it greedily. Then she stood up and swung it wildly around at Malfoy as if it were a deadly saber. "And he is a _prat._"

Ron stared at her, "So are you _both_ on something?"

"Ron, where are we?" Hermione asked, ignoring Ron's question and trying to exhaust her anger by steering off the subject.

"London," said Ron, scowling more, slumping onto the couch and crossing his arms like a two-year old who was denied his favourite lollipop.

"Okay….what year is it?" Hermione continued sceptically.

Malfoy was staring intently at Ron.

Ron was glaring between Hermione and Malfoy, "If this is some kind of joke –"

"Oh, yes, Weasley, we went through all of this just to give you a laugh," Malfoy drawled sarcastically.

"Fine. It's 2003." said Ron.

"Oh, Merlin…" said Hermione, starting to feel faint. "How did this happen?"

"Nothing _happened_, Hermione. You two probably just had a lot…A LOT…to drink." Ron replied.

"Weasley, the Mudblood and I just woke up in this bloody house, supposedly five years later. What drink could do _that_?" said Malfoy, raising an eyebrow.

Ron looked dumbfounded, "What did you just call her?"

Malfoy smirked, "_Mudblood_."

"What the bloody hell is going on?" Ron shouted, standing up.

"We don't know!" cried Hermione, pulling him back down. "I told you, we were at Snape's house!"

"But that was a long time ago!" said Ron.

"But it _wasn't!_ At least not to us! To us it was just a few hours ago, or something!" said Hermione, desperately trying to convince Ron that she wasn't crazy.

"Hermione, you're not making any sense." Ron was shaking his head fretfully.

Hermione sighed; she wasn't getting anywhere.

"Oh! The barrier!" she shrieked, remembering. "How did you get through?"

"You got through the door?" demanded Malfoy suddenly, his eyes wide.

Ron scowled, "Obviously."

Malfoy's eyes narrowed.

"Ron, the door wouldn't let me or Malfoy out before. How did you get in?" asked Hermione.

Ron looked between the two of them before sighing, seemingly deciding to just play along.

"The barrier," he said, "was put up by _me_, remember?"

"You?"

"Good girl!" Ron patted Hermione on the head. Hermione shoved his hand away impatiently.

"So you just randomly put up a barrier on a house that we've happened to appear in?" asked Draco incredulously.

"No!" said Ron defiantly, "I put it on _your_ manor! This is _your_ manor, you drunken little…"

"This is _not_ our manor, Weasley; we just ended up in here. I don't own a manor, especially with her," Malfoy pointed at Hermione with a disgusted face.

"Likewise, Ferret. I'd rather die than live with a Death Eater!" Hermione spat venomously.

Draco's face went pink with fury, "Why, you –"

"ANYWAY!" shouted Ron, interrupting the two, "Merlin, you two are impossible. Right, I put up the barrier as your wedding gift, right? To make sure _he_," he nodded towards Malfoy, "didn't run off on you. "

Hermione's face flushed and her insides burned, remembering what the mirror had told her. She didn't mention anything, however, just tried to adopt a look of utter annoyance and confusion upon her face.

"WE'RE NOT MARRIED!" Malfoy and Hermione both shouted in unison.

Ron looked confused and a little agitated. Swearing under his breath quietly, he stood, towering over both of them by at least four inches, and roughly shoved the two of them together. "Dammit, it's not funny anymore! You two are married, and you've been married for the past three years! You are the epitome of a happily ever after, so DEAL WITH IT!"

The redhead's chest heaved as he tried to regain his breath and Hermione decided that while Malfoy's arm that had been thrown around her waist in the struggle did make her feel a little more safe from the enraged Weasley, it disturbed her, so she shrugged the heavy limb off and stepped away from the blond warily.

Ron's eyes were paranoid and wide as he looked at them, and he appeared to be getting ready to shout again. When Hermione moved, he glared at the space between Malfoy and his friend as if it had personally insulted him. Draco, seeing this and recognizing the warning signs, quickly launched himself at the girl and dragged her back to their previous position. No matter how much it disgusted him, the look on the red-head's face was murderous.

Hermione squirmed but couldn't break away from Malfoy's death grip on her hip. Ron was looked appeased and had gone back to simply panting. Once he had calmed down a bit, he walked to the far side of the room and shuffled through one of the bookshelves quietly, seemingly engrossed in his task.

Taking her chance, Hermione whispered fiercely to Malfoy, who was still cowering at her side, "Let me go, you arrogant little brat."

"Believe me, Mudblood, I wish I could. But I think Weasel King over there might kill me." He glared down at her, his blond hair obscuring half of his face and tickling the bridge of his nose. he brushed it off impatiently and glared icily at her.

"You've lived a good life. Now. Let. Me. Go!"

"What! I'm only 16!" If it was possible, his grip tightened even more and Hermione winced in pain.

"I said good Malfoy, not long. Besides, death is but the next great adventure."

He sneered down at her and arched one almost-white eyebrow. The corner of his mouth twitched and his eyes shone maliciously as he spoke, "I bet Dumbledore told you that. Stupid old fool."

Hermione eyes prickled with tears at the mention of her late Headmaster. Raising her foot slowly, she positioned it over his leather clad toes, making sure he didn't notice by glaring directly into his eyes as she spoke, "How _dare_ you! I know what happened on the Astronomy Tower, Malfoy! Even as you threatened to kill him, he offered you protection! How dare you speak of him like that?" She brought her heel down with all her might, "How. Dare You."

Malfoy jumped in pain and released her, clutching the victimized appendage tenderly and howling with rage. Ron whipped around and sighed.

"Will you two stop it? Sweet Merlin, you're acting like a pair of teenagers! Now, come here." It was then that Hermione noticed a large, green book in her friend's hands. Ever the bookworm, she moved to Ron's side. Malfoy followed her discreetly, limping gingerly on his left foot and glaring daggers at her back.

The book was fairly new, the gold lettering still flashing brilliantly as Ron opened the thick cover. The glare blinded Hermione from seeing what it was called, but it became clear as she peeked over Ron's burly shoulder.

Wizarding and muggle pictures waved up at her, meshed together in places and separated in others, as if someone had never gotten around to actually sorting them. She could see Order members, Harry, Ron and herself at school, a black and white of Dumbledore and McGonagall at a Christmas party, baby photos of herself and another child with unruly blond curls, and up in one corner, her parents waved up at her from in front of her childhood home.

Ron flipped the page quickly, and Hermione almost cried out in protest, but when she saw the next page, containing another collage, her mouth fell open silently. She heard Malfoy gasp behind her, and a rush of wind sweeping up her back told her he had brought a hand to his mouth in shock.

They were both in these pictures. Ron pointed to some specifically, and Hermione could tell he was talking, but all she could hear was a distant buzzing, quite like the effects of the Muffliato curse. All she could comprehend were the pictures of her in a long, white dress, covered completely in a delicate lace that ran up her throat and arms, and fell down her back to make a train.

It had been her mother's, and she had always told herself she would wear it on her own wedding day.

And then there was Malfoy, in a set of dark, charcoal grey robes, smiling and laughing as he twirled her across a dance floor; as they cut a three-tier cake; and sat at a table with Ron, Parvati, Luna, and Lavender Brown. She could see Seamus behind Parvati, making funny faces at the cameramen, and Neville sat off to Ron's left, looking a little tipsy as he chatted to Professor Sprout.

And then Ron flipped the book closed, and the spell was broken.

The innocent gold lettering sparkled back up at them, and now Hermione could clearly read 'Malfoy Scrapbook' scrawled across it in delicate calligraphy. Terrified, she stepped backwards into Malfoy, who didn't seem to notice anything at all. His eyes were fairly popping out of their sockets, and his hand still covered his mouth's silent scream.

Ron was smirking triumphantly at them, knowing they couldn't deny anything after that startling shove into his reality. Hermione wanted to slap him.

Thoughts raced through her head like lightning, striking down for only seconds, but shaking her to the core. Married? To _him_? Something was wrong with this, they must be under some type of marriage law or spell…but then…Ron had said something about happily ever after, hadn't he? And there was no way she would have married someone against her will. She was Hermione Granger for Merlin's sake, and if she didn't want to do something, there was no way in heaven or hell anyone could make her do it. Especially concerning certain slimy little ferret Death Eaters-to-be.

Slowly, she looked behind her at Malfoy. He seemed to have gotten past his initial shock. Now, he stood completely upright, so straight you couldn't even see the spot on the back of his neck where it curved up to his head from his spine. His grey eyes glared at Ron accusingly, as if he was actually considering killing the redhead once and for all.

Her wide-eyed stare eventually made it's way back to Ron and she could see him starting to look unnerved by Malfoy's unyielding, relentless glare. Silently, in the back of her mind, a voice told her he deserved it.

But how could they be married? Was that even legal? She briefly considered tattooing a warning sign on the back of Malfoy's neck. _Do Not Marry; Hazardous to Mental Health._

It must be some type of Death eater scheme then. Yes, that was it. Malfoy was in on it, and someone had taken a Polyjuice Potion and disguised themselves as Ron. The entire mansion was all a prop, the crests, the mirror, and even the barrier, set up by Voldemort to separate her from Harry and the real Ron back at Snape's house. Malfoy must have had a portkey, knowing they would disappear the moment she launched herself at him. Perhaps the trap wasn't even meant for her, it was meant for Harry, and she had only gotten in the way.

It was all suddenly making sense.

Backing away from Malfoy slightly, she opened her mouth to start accusing, but was interrupted by the blond behind her.

"No. I won't believe it. I _refuse_."

Ron glared back at Lucius Malfoy's son with contempt. "Will you bloody give it a rest, Malfoy?"

"No! I am NOT married to that…thing!"

"Malfoy so help me, call her that again, and I'll rip your balls o-"

Hermione, seeing this as only another ploy to distract her, drew her newly returned wand. "Stop it! I know what you're doing, you filthy Death Eaters, and I won't fall for it! I admit, you had me going for a moment! I really though Malfoy and I were married and that something had happened, but now I know what's really going on here!

"This is just a trap, meant for Harry, and now you're going to torture me for information. I won't give it to you! I'll never betray Harry! Never. So stop speaking in code and just take me to Voldemort or whatever it is you minions do. And you," She pointed her wand at the Ron imposter. "You really should have done better research on Ron! I mean, for Merlin's sake, a _telephone_? Ron doesn't know how to tie his own shoes, let alone how to use one of those."

He looked offended, and her mind pondered his wonderful acting abilities. Slipping in Malfoy's sick? Brillant. Exactly something Ron would do! And the anger, he had that down pat!

And then there was Malfoy! Running them both into that barrier, which she now realized he must have put up himself, and getting drunk; then Lizzy on her parents' phone. They must have had it rigged. The little girl was probably some Death Eater in training sitting in one of the rooms upstairs congratulating herself for a brilliant performance. It was no wonder she hadn't immediately seen through the ruse. It had been perfectly planned; the only slip up seemed to be her and Harry's mix up.

The only thing that seemed to escape reason was why she and Malfoy had landed in a bed wearing only their underwear…

Gesturing again to the two men, she made a guttural growling noise in the back of her throat and stalked towards them. "What were you going to do with Harry? Is he here? Tell me!"

"Give it up, Mudblood, Wonder Boy isn't here!" Malfoy snarled, glaring at her with a piercing, yet satisfied look.

Hermione swiveled her wand onto Malfoy, her eyes nearly popping out of their sockets. "Don't mess with me right now, you rotten scum, don't you _dare_…"

Malfoy's glare had turned to slightly widened eyes, and he backed up slightly.

"Now," she said, taking up an out-of-character dominance and turned back to Ron, "tell me where Harry is, or I swear I'll hex you into oblivion."

Ron also stepped back, raising his hands in front of him and observing Hermione's wand warily.

"Hermione…" he said slowly, "Hermione, listen to me. I'm not a Death Eater, ok? Something is obviously very, _very_ wrong here."

"Of course something's wrong!" said Hermione incredulously, "Everything here is wrong!"

"Hermione -"

"Where's Harry?" Hermione interrupted in a demanding voice.

Something in Ron fell. His eyes lost their wary approach, and his tense figure slumped. Hermione ignored these details determinedly and held her posture.

"Where is he?" she was shouting now, "Where's Harry?" She was beginning to repeat herself.

"Please, stop…" Ron said in such a broken voice it made Hermione lower her wand slightly.

She peered at the boy intently, shocked; no Death Eater could look that defeated, even if it _was_ an act.

"Hermione," Ron started up again, looking at the floor, "I don't know what's going on. I'm not even sure if I believe this whole thing, but…Hermione, you're twenty-two years old, you and Malfoy have been married for three years, and Harry - Harry is dead."

There was a shocked silence that lasted for what seemed like an eternity, Hermione staring at Ron in numb disbelief.

"HAH!" exclaimed Malfoy gleefully.

**A/N (from both)**: DUN, DUN, DUUUUUN! grins Ok, everyone pretend you didn't know that Harry was dead. That way it will be a proper cliffy. So ssssssh! innocence Wow, looooooong chapter. Lordy, lordy. we apologize for the lack of activity, but we had to explain everything. :-\ We promise you there WILL be some out-of-the-house activity in the next chapter, ok? Ok. Well, sorry for the long wait, both with school we have been quite busy, and our Beta dropped out on us so the search for a new one began. We hope that the extra-long chapter makes up for it! Its 14 pages! Well, it's very late and Taylor here needs her beauty sleep. Please **REVIEW** and tell us **WHAT YOU THINK! **Please more than "update soon!" or something. Please:- Night! Kisses!

**Nicole**- and of course I'm the one who got stuck fixing it up at 1 in the morning while the beauty queen over there slept. She's lucky she's had a rough week or else she'd really be hearing it from me for the next couple days. Send her love. (And I wouldn't mind some myself ;) )

**REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!**

**Tayz and Ms.understood**


	4. The Woes of the Weasley's

"**A Shove Towards Insanity"**

By

**Tayz**

&

**Ms. Understood**

**Very special thanks for our lovely 92 reviews go to:** animeluvr8 (x2), Beautiful Screams of Heartache:), Emma, lIKe-A-dRoWnInG-fIrE (x2), myownreflection, iluv2dance (x2), mary-pi, Wingsofthefae, riley, CColomBiAnMaMi11, charminp, Flor De La Cereza, J'adore Dior, astraeos, EquestrianBabe, Ancient Alchemy, PirateQueenHwore, Elena Bauder, spraxia, NumbuhZero, Inside-Pandora's-Box, greyeyegal14, AniDragon, aka Riona-chan, frenchpiment, Dream N color, mAI2402, the black swan, Bookworm1214, pat-nosferatu, some1…, sunflower18, and Topaz Owl!

**A/N** (Tayz): No, we're not dead. No, we're not in the hospital. No, we're not….er…hm. Well, I'd love to say we have a very satisfactory explanation that would please each and every one of you, but, sadly, we don't. In short, Nicole and I are just busy with our social lives :p. But, Hark! We have returned! This chapter better be good because it's been in our heads for quite a while, now. Alright, I'm just going to stop talking (nothing new has really gone on) and let you all read. REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW!

**A/N** (Nicole): She tried to post this while I was out, she was so anxious, but I made her take it back down so I could look at the final version and add my notes. I'm such a lovely person. Hope the alerts didn't crowd up your inboxes, and I hope you all like the chapter. We got them out of the house, and added some more necessary background. Next chapter promises to be exciting, and I hope it'll be out soon. And yes, our social lives have been busy. ;)

**Chapter 3 – "The Weasley's Woes"**

What happened before…

"_Hermione," Ron started up again, looking at the floor, "I don't know what's going on. I'm not even sure if I believe this whole thing, but…Hermione, you're twenty-two years old, you and Malfoy have been married for three years, and Harry - Harry is dead."_

_There was a shocked silence that lasted for what seemed like an eternity, Hermione staring at Ron in numb disbelief._

"_HAH!" exclaimed Malfoy gleefully._

The shocked silence that filled the room after Ron's statement was thicker than anything that had been said in the time before. In fact, the quiet was so absolute that one could've heard a pin drop onto the floor. Ron stared at Hermione, his look tired and worn as his eyes connected with hers. Hermione, however, was numb. It was as if her brain was instantly rejecting the poisonous words from her mind; leaving Hermione in a state of stunned disbelief.

"What?" Hermione asked, in a surprisingly calm and polite voice, as if she was merely asking Ron to repeat something she had not understood. Her eyes stayed level with Ron's.

"Yeah," said Ron, "Yeah…"

"Oy, wait a second," Malfoy interjected, a broad smile across his face, "Okay, so you're saying Potter is _dead_, yes?"

Ron glared at him, making Hermione jump internally at the sudden break of eye contact. She too looked at Malfoy, but didn't really register him in her mind. Hermione sat on the corner of a nearby couch, blinking hard to fight back the tears that were resting threateningly in the corners of her eyes.

"Yes, _Malfoy_, that's what I said," Ron said through gritted teeth.

"Hah!" Malfoy said again, his smile wider and more arrogant than ever before. "This is brilliant, absolutely brilliant. Weasley, I thank you. If what you say is true - and believe me, I'm rooting for it - then this bleeding day has completely turned itself around."

"Oh _fuck you_, you slimy little –"Ron stood and pulled out his wand, jabbing it fiercely in the direction of Malfoy, who laughed in retaliation.

"Ron!" Hermione said in a hard voice. Ron's sudden movements had snapped her out of her daze again. She stood as well; grabbing Ron's arm and jerking it back down.

"No, let go of me, Hermione!" Ron tore his arm from Hermione's grip and advanced towards Malfoy's corner, his wand less than an inch away from the pale man's face.

Malfoy had stopped laughing at this point and was looking down at the wand, his previously narrowed grey eyes now widened in fear. Ron's face was flushed, and Hermione was sure she could see a vein pulsing in his neck, reminding her of his earlier explosion. She cautiously placed her hand on Ron's shoulder, but he instantly shrugged it off. "Don't," he whispered to her. She tensed and backed off immediately.

"I swear to God, Malfoy," Ron continued to advance on Malfoy, who in turn was backing slowly away, his eyes still focused on the wand in Ron's hand. "Shut your bloody mouth or I'll put the Cruciatus curse on you without any hesitation!"

Draco sneered and raised an eyebrow. "Ooh, sinking to the level of the Death Eaters, Weasley? I'd thought you higher than that. Come now, what would your precious, _dead_ Potter think about that kind of behavior?"

Ron made a furious move towards the blond, but Hermione got there first.

_THWACK!_

Draco's head jerked to one side, and he shrieked in surprise and pain, his fingers trailing over the large, hand-shaped red mark that already shone brilliantly on his cheek.

"You," whispered Hermione in a dangerous voice, "you arrogant, worthless, h-horrible…" Her voice began to break and the tears that she had been fighting back began to spill over for what seemed like the thousandth time that morning. She lowered the hand she had used to slap Malfoy, and instead buried her face into it, turning to Ron and sniffling. "Ron, please…"

Ron lowered his still upright arm, and his face fell soft. He took Hermione in a comforting hug before wrapping his arm around her shoulder and sitting her down onto the couch again. Hermione sat without protest, her tears falling freely now, but her face still buried in her arms. Draco stood where he was, backed into the opposite corner, looking on at the scene before him with a smirk. Ron had picked the photo album back up, and was flipping carelessly through the pages. His eyes were focused and he would stop at every other page and check the corners of the binding, as if he were looking for something specific that would be hidden under the folds.

"Oh, wait," Ron said quietly to himself. He grabbed a stack of pages and flipped them so he could reach the very end of the album. "There we go. Hermione, come look."

Hermione raised her head slowly from her arms, revealing her face, which was red and tear-stained. "What is it?" she asked, without really looking at what Ron was trying to show her. Ron pointed to a collection of what looked like old, folded up newspapers, crinkled and smashed under the bulk of the book.

"What is it?" Hermione asked again.

Ron pulled out the hunk paper and began to unfold the lot of them. Hermione, peering closely at them, realized she was right in thinking them to be from a newspaper. In big, green, glittering letters at the very top of the page, it read **The Daily Prophet**- a title Hermione had come to know and even detest at times - shone in bold, green, glittering letters atop of page. Hermione's eyes darted to the date, which read 13 July, 1998.

"Five years ago," said Ron, watching Hermione, "This paper is from exactly five years ago – today. Today's the anniversary, Hermione."

Hermione looked up, puzzled. "The anniversary of what?" she inquired, her brow furrowed.

"Just read," was all Ron said.

Malfoy's curiosity seemed to get the better of him, and he cautiously walked forward to hover above Hermione's shoulder so he could see what all the fuss was about. Hermione barely noticed Malfoy practically breathing down her neck, as all her attention was focused on the headlines of the Prophet.

However, Hermione's eyes barely had to move a fraction before she spotted what she knew was the right article. The biggest, boldest, blackest headliner of the page lay center, directly underneath it a moving black and white picture of a great group of witches and wizards. They looked happy – no, elated, they looked positively elated. Every face in the group was beaming as they clunked their giant mugs of mead together, singing and dancing, or else smiling heartedly through the picture.

It read:

**GOOD FINALLY TRIUMPS OVER EVIL: HE WHO MUST NOT BE NAMED AT LAST ****DEFEATED!**

Early this morning – writes Rita Skeeter, special correspondent – victory for the good arose. At last, after 30+ years of terror, fear and destruction, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was defeated once and for all. With all the thanks to the famous Boy Who Lived - our Harry Potter, who is merely out of his final year at Hogwarts - the Wizarding world can finally rest and rejoice. On 12 July, 1998, the surprise battle declared itself outside none other than Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry around 7:00pm. The Aurors were quick to the scene, where they joined Harry Potter and his group of defensemen, including the werewolf Remus Lupin and ex-Auror Mad-Eye Moody, to fight against the mass of Death Eaters opposite them. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and Harry Potter must have had their own private battle elsewhere, as on-lookers have informed The Daily Prophet that they were no where to be seen.

"At the end of the battle," says Colin Creevey, soon to be seventh year student at Hogwarts and close friend of Harry's, "Harry came out onto the Hogwart's grounds, where some of the scuffle had brought itself to. He was a mess, really; all bloody and gashed up. Anyway, he came out and everyone just kind of…stopped. Then he told us that You-Know-Who was dead. He didn't even look happy…just a bit confused, or relieved, or something – I couldn't tell. After he told us, he walked back into the castle with Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, and Draco Malfoy. They all looked as beaten up as he did. But the death eaters that still remained, and there weren't too many, they fled. Just ran off while everyone's attention was on Harry." The final battle ended at approximately 3:58am on Friday, 13 July, 1998. The Death Eaters that escaped are unknown, but remaining Aurors are currently on the search following tips from some who took part in the quarrel. Of course, Harry Potter will receive an Order of Merlin, First Class for his incredible achievement, and his award ceremony will take place on 31 July, which also happens to be our young wizard's birthday.

However, with war there are casualties, and this, unfortunately, is no exception. Many of our loved and respected have lost their lives fighting for their cause. For this, we honor them. To pay our respects, we have listed the ones whom have been reported passed below:

Abercrombie, Euan

Abotely, Mr. and Mrs. Jackson and Blaire

Abstine, Rebecca

Abstine, Moren

Abund, Mr. And Mrs. Gregory and Atianna

Acenson, Broderick

Achilles, Jane

Ackeltry, Mr. and Mrs. Gideon and Francesca

Aubery, Bertram

Bagman, Ludovic

Bagshot, Bathilda

Baltrin, Blaise

Baltrin, Morganna

Baltrin, Irma

Boot, Terry

Cauldwell, Owen

Crabbe, Vincent

Creevey, Dennis

Crockford, Doris

Davies, Rodger

Diggory, Amos

Doge, Elphias

Dumbleodre, Aberforth

Dumbledore, Albus

Edgecombe, Mary

Edgecombe, Marietta

Filch, Argus

Flitwick, Filius

Fortescue, Florean

Grubbly-Plank, Wilhemina

Higgs, Terence

Jones, Hestia

Jorkins, Stamford

Krum, Victor

Malfoy, Narcissa Black

Marchbanks, Griselda

McLaggen, Cormac

Midgen, Eloise

Hermione stopped here, clamping her eyes shut. It was over-whelming, seeing so many of her friend's and acquaintance's names all listed there in black and white print. They made it seem as if they were…casualties. They were just losses that were to be expected to live up to the phrase "…casualties in war".

It wasn't as if she was not thrilled to learn Harry had defeated Voldemort but-- _hang on_, she thought suddenly. Ron said Harry had died - this article said he'd lived. What was going on?

Slowly, she cracked her eyes open once more and swivelled to look at her friend. She opened her mouth, preparing to start asking questions, but Ron, without so much as a glance in her direction, just shoved another article under her nose and turned away to study a quite plain piece of flooring, deliberately avoiding her gaze. Arching an eyebrow curiously, she titled her head back down and was assaulted by another glaring newspaper heading; this one more garish and large then the other one, if possible.

**TRAGEDY STRIKES: HARRY POTTER ASSASSINATED AT ORDER OF MERLIN CEREMONY**

Tragedy has come upon the wizarding community on 31 July, 1998 – writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent. Our war hero and 18 year-old legend, Harry Potter, was assassinated today whilst receiving his Order of Merlin, First Class for the defeat of You-Know-Who merely 19 days previous. Yours truly was just lucky enough to witness the scene. Harry Potter had just ascended onto the stage – a sheepish, almost nervous expression on his face - before the entire Wizarding Community to accept his Order from Rufus Scrimgeour, Minister of Magic. Then, suddenly, a young man seated in the far corner, reserved for Order of Merlin Third Class receivers, pulled out his wand and uttered "Avada Kedavra", the fatal and un-preventive killing curse. The crowd went wild as the blinding flash of green light veered toward Harry, who turned in surprise, thus allowing the light to hit him square in the chest.

The 18 year old (31 July, incidentally, happened to be Mr. Potter's birthday) slowly fell to the ground, his face frozen in a look of shock. Ministry officials went immediately after the boy who had cast the deadly spell, and in no time had him gagged and bound with a series of their own inventive spells. Multitudes of wizards and witches were gathered around the stage. Remus Lupin, ex-teacher at Hogwarts, emerged shortly afterwards, carrying the lifeless form of Harry. Surrounded by Ronald Weasley, who was tear-stained and at Lupin's side, Hermione Granger, who was sobbing hysterically and clutching at Harry's hand, and Draco Malfoy, sullen faced, his arm around the girl, Lupin made his way out of the courthouse, leaving the screams and cries of anguish behind. The offender was soon identified as Colin Creevey: 17 years old, freshly into his last year of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and former classmate of Harry Potter. Creevey was placed into Azkaban Prison immediately, but was later found dead in his cell. Healers confirmed that Creevey's death was, in fact, suicide. Curiosity arose in Creevey's favour, as Creevey was a Gryffindor and a close friend of Potter's. Never was Creevey accused of being in league with the Death Eaters, whose act this clearly was. Possibilites of enchantment or befuddlement, such as the Imperius Curse, are currently being considered. No matter was officials concur as to the reason why Harry was killed, the fact remains that on this day, we have lost one of the greatest wizards of our time – a mere, yet extraordinary 18 year old who saved his and our world. Harry James Potter, our hero in so many ways, is no longer The-Boy-Who-Lived.

Hermione dropped the article to the floor, eyes misting over again as she stared unseeingly at the wall. This could not be happening. Her mind screamed insistently, a dull roar filling her ears. She had landed in some alternate reality where nothing made sense: where Draco Malfoy was her husband, she lived in a beautiful mansion, and innocent, friendly if a bit excitable school boys killed her best friends. This wasn't happening!

And yet it was. Happening just like the tears falling onto her hands were wet and the lurch of her belly nauseating. Colin Creevey had killed Harry Potter, her best friend, and she had supposedly watched it happen; stood on a stage, in front of the Wizarding World, cheering and laughing with his murder seconds before the event. How could she not have stopped it? Surely she should have seen it coming?

Harry, poor, loved-starved Harry who had only ever done what was best for others, no matter the cost to himself, was gone.

Suddenly, she wanted to know more. What had happened to Colin's ruling? Had Death Eater's really played a part? What had happened afterwards for Merlin's sake?

She whipped her head up and turned to Ron, desperate for information, explanations, anything. His eyes were gleaming, but not fastened on her as she'd thought they'd be. Instead, Ron was staring behind her, up towards where Malfoy still hovered. Concerned, puzzled, and half-crazed for answers, she shook his arm, trying to get his attention. "Ron? What happened--"

Before Hermione could finish her question, a pale hand flew down over her head and snatched the first page, proclaiming Voldemort's defeat, from where it still lay in her lap. Sets of chocolate and blue eyes met Malfoy's grey ones before he was furiously scanning the article again; his grip so tight that Hermione was afraid the thin paper would tear. Ron seemed to have forgotten their earlier fight, and was steadily eyeing the other boy with what looked like compassion, ignoring Hermione and the fierce grip she still had on his arm. Something was not right, and Malfoy wouldn't -- couldn't-- have reacted like this out of concern for Harry, so what…

It was then that Hermione understood.

The list of casualties was what the increasingly pale boy was reading, his fingers creasing the page beyond repair and eyes burning twin holes through it. He hadn't even read the article about Harry, because in that first article, about halfway down the page, were three words Draco Malfoy would see burned in the blackness of his mind for the rest of his life.

Malfoy, Narcissa Black.

Hermione stared at Malfoy's starch-white face for a second, trying to figure out what he was going to do next. He would possibly break down, sob hysterically before her and Ron's feet, or else lash out in anger and kill them both. Hermione unconsciously scooted back on the cushion, mentally preparing herself for an attack. Malfoy, however, did neither of the things Hermione had predicted. Instead, he merely continued to stare at the newsprint as though it were something ugly and slimy, something he detested with all his Malfoy-ness. Hermione averted her eyes from him, unsure of what to do. She looked back at Ron, who was still staring at Malfoy with that look of understanding, his eyes softer than before.

"Ron…" Hermione whispered so that she was barely audible.

Ron's looked back at her, his tongue between his teeth. They stared at one another for a second before Ron tentatively pushed himself up from the couch. He stood there, hovering awkwardly for a moment, and then walked over to Malfoy's side. Ron's hand twitched at his side.

"Hey, Malfoy…" Ron started in an unsure tone, but before he could say anything more Malfoy's cold eyes darted to Ron's.

"Balderdash, Weasley," he said in an undertone. "It's fucking balderdash."

Ron shook his head slowly, his tongue still between his teeth. "No," he said in a tone to match Malfoy's, "No, it's not. I'm sorry, Malfoy. I really am."

Ron's made like he was going to give Malfoy a comforting pat on the back, but Malfoy jerked away with such ferocity that he almost toppled over, but caught himself on one of the pillars.

"Don't touch me, Weasel!" he snarled, shooting daggers at Ron with his eyes. "Never, ever touch me! It's not true! It's not, and you know it! This paper is a fake – no one is dead. The war has hardly even _started_ yet! Like hell it's already over!"

"Malfoy, this isn't five years ago! It's now, you prat!" said Ron, shouting unnecessarily.

Hermione sat there, watching the two with a mixture of fascination and horror. Tears were still flowing steadily down her cheeks as she grasped at the article with her fingertips.

"No! Shut up, Weasley! The Dark Lord is alive, we haven't lost! This is just some _stupid_ magic!" Malfoy put his hands over his ears and clamped his eyelids shut, screwing up his face in a very uncharacteristic, undignified fashion.

"You didn't support that side, Malfoy! You fought with _us_! You fought on the good side!" Ron shouted right back, his voice equally loud.

"See, that's why I know you're lying!" said Malfoy, his eyes opening as he started towards Ron. "I know this is all shit because I would _never_ come over to your side! I would never fight with you!"

"Well, you did!" said Ron, laughing almost maniacally, "So sorry, Ferret, but you did. You fought with Harry Potter and his band of followers! DEAL WITH IT!"

Hermione had risen a little in her seat, prepared to jump if the fight turned from verbal to physical. She had never seen Malfoy _this_ passionate about something. Ron's words had led her brain to thinking, though. It was true about Malfoy. Both articles mentioned Malfoy being with Harry, Ron, and her. Besides, she wouldn't have married him if he hadn't crossed sides, right?

"MY MOTHER ISN'T DEAD! SHE'S NOT DEAD!"

Malfoy's veins looked as if they were about to pop right out of his neck. His face, so white and cold before, was now beet-red as he raised his voice to its highest and strongest level. His eyes were popping, his fists were clenched, and with the look he was giving Ron, Hermione was bewildered as to how Ron was still standing his ground.

Ron did, however. Ron stood, his face purple with rage, his fists also clenched. He deflated a bit, however, with Malfoy's last statement. He let out a large breath, flexing his fingers.

"Yes," he said, "she is. I'm sorry, but –"

"STOP!" said Malfoy, once again covering his ears, but not closing his eyes this time. "Fuck you, Weasley, she's still alive. I know she's still alive because I just _talked_ to her yesterday! I was _with_ my mother yesterday and she was fine! Just because I woke up in this fucking house and you're here feeding me some bullshit doesn't mean I have to believe you! Believe me, you scum, I don't. You're not going to deceive me, whoever you are. My mother is _fine_. The war hasn't happened, The Dark Lord is still going, your precious Potter isn't dead and my mother…my mother is _fine_."

Malfoy was breathing heavily through his nose, and Hermione could practically feel the rapid beating of his heart. Ron didn't move an inch. He stayed where he was, his expression hard as he stared into Malfoy's glinting eyes. Silence had once again found its way into their midst, but this time it was tense and un-predictable. A few seconds passed before Ron made his moved.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he once again shook his head.

"I'm sorry," he said cautiously yet in a very clear, pronounced voice, "Malfoy, I don't know what else to say. If you don't believe me, check around - ask anyone. _Everyone_ you ask will know. You won't find a single person out there who will not be able to tell you the story of His defeat off the top of their heads, every detail intact. There's nothing more I can say or do to convince you that everything the article said was true, as is everything _I've_ told you."

Malfoy took his turn to stare. He pursed his lips and, with what seemed like a great effort, sneered.

"Fine, Weasley, whatever you say," he snarled, though you could tell his heart wasn't completely in it. Malfoy turned out of the hall and strode down it toward the front door. He went to open it.

The barrier, obviously still in its full form, blocked Malfoy's attempt.

"Fuck!" he shouted, turning his head to glare back at Ron. "Undo it!"

Ron simply looked at him, saying nothing. Hermione stood up and walked next to Ron, casting her gaze anywhere but at Malfoy. Malfoy looked between the two of this, his expression furious.

"Fine," he said. He looked at the door and shouted at it, "Fine! I'll come back! I'll fucking come back!"

His word and intentions must have been true because, the second attempt Malfoy made worked. His hand turned the door handle and it swung open, just like an ordinary door would. A flood of sunlight and warm air spilled into the foyer, making Malfoy's hair shine almost as white as his skin. He wasted no time in bursting through the doorway, not saying a word to either Hermione or Ron. The heavy door swung shut with a loud _thud_ behind him, making the windows shake slightly, and cutting off the warm light that signalled outside life.

Hermione and Ron stood in silence for a minute, peering at the spot where Malfoy had disappeared. Ron turned to Hermione and hugged her. Hermione didn't hesitate to hug him back tightly, her eyes screwed shut, another tear making its way down her face.

"Will you be ok?" Ron asked, breaking the hug and looking hard at Hermione.

Hermione nodded, then shook her head, and then shrugged. "I don't know," she said, sniffling. "I just c-can't _believe_ it, Ron. Harry?"

Ron nodded, "I know."

Hermione sniffed and wiped her eyes forcefully, breathing in a shaky breath. "Where did you bury him?" she asked with surprising ease.

Ron blinked, his freckled nose twitching. "Godric's Hollow," he said finally, "Right in their front yard. We built a huge memorial and everything. It's a national holiday, now. Every July 31st, all witches and wizards bring lilies and place them around his memorial. It's this big, big ceremony; it's really nice."

Hermione choked back a sob and smiled a watery smile, "That's amazing," she said.

"I know," said Ron, smiling softly, too.

"Did they ever find out why Colin did it, though?" Hermione asked.

"We decided he was under Imperious. It was just too unlike him to do something like that – he couldn't have done it with free will." Ron shrugged.

Hermione nodded. "So…" she said slowly, "What do I do?"

Ron looked puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"Well," said Hermione, "I'm five years in my future, I don't remember anything that has happened in those years and…and I'm married to _Malfoy_."

Ron sighed. "Yes, you are."

"Ron, why? Why did I marry Malfoy?"

"He changed sides, Hermione," he said. "He changed sides right after that time at Snape's. It was really sudden. We all thought he had been hit with something. We thought you had too, actually, because you were vouching for him. But we figured that he was an important part of You-Know-Who's plan, so we decided that we might as well take him with us while he was unknowing and use him for information later."

Ron looked extremely tired, but he continued, "But we checked him out and after a while we had to believe he wasn't under any spell because there weren't any signs whatsoever to lead to that conclusion. Plus, the fact that he never changed sides again kind of helped, too."

"Oh…" Hermione whispered. She still had a million questions racing through her head, but she fought the urge to ask. Instead, she smiled a little, trying to relax. She didn't want to mention the fact that, although Malfoy might have had a miraculous change back then, it was highly doubtful that he would now. This made her uneasy, as she apparently had to live with Malfoy for the rest of…well…for the rest of her life as far as she was concerned.

Hermione furrowed her brow, thinking: _Ron accepts Malfoy, is even on good terms with him. Well, the old or…the new Malfoy….or….the new Malfoy for her but the old Malfoy for Ron…or…..oh, shut up, brain._

"Why don't you just come with me today, ok?" suggested Ron, smiling at her. "Let you think things out and clear your head."

Hermione smiled back, "That would be wonderful." Walking forward, she waited for him to join her by the parlour door. "Is there anywhere special you have to be, or are we free to roam?"

The Weasley boy's face reddened considerably, and he reached up to rub the back of his neck in the typical 'I-really-don't-want-to-tell-you-but-here-it-is' fashion typical of all males. "Well, I did promise Mum I'd stop by the Burrow for dinner. You don't mind going, do you?"

The Burrow, Hermione thought joyfully, was exactly what she needed. "That's wonderful Ron! You know I love the Burrow, and it'll be great to see your parents again! Is Molly a grandmother yet? Ooh, I just bet there are oodles of little kids in the family now. Do they call you Uncle Ron?"

Something about her questions and enthusiasm must have thrown her friend off, because suddenly, his face seemed to close in on itself and she was left standing next to what could be called a freckled brick wall. Prompted by her searching look, he relented and said, "They'll be glad to see you again. You don't much have time to stop in for tea these days."

They exited the sitting room, coming back out into the spacious entrance hall from earlier, and Ron led her over to the main door. "Got your wand?" At her nod, he stepped through the doors and made to keep walking. Startled, Hermione waved a hand cautiously where the barrier had been and then superstitiously stepped through the archway. Thankfully, Ron hadn't seemed to notice her hesitation. Catching up with him, she wondered aloud, "Is that barrier the safest thing, Ron? I mean, I certainly see the appeal of it, and I'm touched by your concern, but it really is rather unorthodox."

Turning his head a fraction of an inch towards her, he continued to walk whilst speaking. "I've told you, Hermione, I don't want the bloody ferret running out on you; especially not now! I don't see what the problem is. I thought it was a bloody good idea on my part."

Sighing, she tried to refrain from jogging to keep up with him. "Yes, but what if there was a fire; what if Draco or I were to turn abusive and try to hurt the other? Surely we'd need to get out of the house, but the barrier sounds like it wouldn't let us through, the way it's set up. I'm not saying it wasn't a good idea but-" He grabbed onto her arm as they reached a tall evergreen on the grounds, not fifty paces from the house, and Hermione was suddenly engulfed with the sickening feel of Side-Along Apparition. With a pop, they were standing in the centre of a lane leading to the ramshackle Burrow. "-wouldn't it make more sense to adjust it? Or even take it down completely?"

"Can we talk about this later, Hermione? There are some things I think I should tell you before we head in." The shuttered look was threatening to overtake his face again, and Hermione felt a sense of dread wash over her. Even Trelawney could've seen something was dreadfully wrong.

Taking her elbow, Ron led her over behind the rusted shed where Arthur kept his collection of Muggle gadgets. The sun and shadows mixed to create an odd display of color on his freckled face, and she imagined she looked quite the same. "Okay, Ron, what's so important that we're hiding behind a shed?" He didn't laugh, and this worried her more.

"You…you never finished reading the casualty list, did you?" He seemed nervous, sad, and maybe that was anger she saw simmering beneath his blue eyes. What was he talking about? She'd read the "casualty list" from the Prophet, and had been horrified by it; he'd been there! Apparently, he'd picked up on her confusion. "You never read the whole thing, right?"

Oh.

"N-no. I stopped at the M's, just after Draco's mother. What does that-" Understanding shot through her brain, sending tingles down her spine and raising the hair on her arms in the cool shadows. "…oh lord, Ron, no. Please say you're not telling me what I think you're about to tell me."

"Hermione-"

"No!"

Indignation and fear practically poured off him in waves. "Hermione, I can't let you walk in that house without knowing!"

"I don't want to know which of your family members were on that list, Ron!"

Her yell seemed to echo through the neighboring trees and up the lane, and she hoped it didn't reach the house. A few birds sitting on the roof of the shed took flight, cawing at her in distress. Ron's eyes were fixed on her, two blue pools half covered in the dark, and she just couldn't _bear_ it; to think that this happy family, the _Weasley's_ for Merlin's sake, were no longer complete. But she could see the look in the redhead's eyes, and she knew he was about to tell her exactly what she didn't want to hear.

"Hermione, calm down and listen. You don't think it's tearing me up to say this? They're my siblings, my family, but I have to tell you before you go in there and see -talk to- my parents! They're not the same as you remember them, Hermione, and you need to understand why." His eyes were what made her agree to listen to him, she'd tell people later on, like they always did. She nodded, and he took a breath before continuing.

"Charlie was taken down by Malfoy Senior, right at the very end, while his back was turned at the final battle. Percy was caught trying to defend the Minister's office when the Death Eaters managed to infiltrate the Ministry, and nothing's turned up of him since," His voice was scratchy as he talked of his slightly snobbish brother, and she gathered that the family had reconciled before the disappearance. Ron's eyes blinked repeatedly as he stumbled over his next words. "And…and I guess you could say we lost Fred to the Dementors, that summer after our sixth year, when they were still breeding all over London. He's in St. Mungo's now, in the new ward they built after the war, and we go visit him every Sunday. George hasn't been the same since, doesn't joke anymore; he handed over Weasley's Wizarding Wheeze's to Lee Jordan, but it got closed down when Lee couldn't keep up his taxes."

Boldly reaching out, Hermione encircled her friend in a protecting, motherly hug. "Oh, Ron, I- I'm so sorry. I can't believe -I mean- oh Ron!"

Letting her hold him for a few more moments, he kept any tears at bay, before straightening and tugging her towards the house. "C'mon, we'd best go in. Mum and Dad will be pleased to see you, but Hermione, you have to understand that things have changed. They've lost three of their children, and Harry was practically part of the family. That kind of loss affects people in strange ways."

Suddenly, Hermione wasn't quite so keen to go inside. She nodded to show she appreciated the warning, and then started the short trek up to the slumping house, recalling all the good memories that surrounded it and hoping she didn't end up crying by the end of the visit. She'd certainly done enough of that in the past few hours.

Even though the walk from the shed to the Burrow was short, to Hermione it felt as if they'd Apparated to the front door, they were there so quickly. Ron knocked softly on the door, as if it were a funeral parlour, and they waited patiently until they heard fumbling with locks on the other side. The door, still painted the same shade of light blue, creaked as it was inched forward and a pale face peered through the crack at them. Molly Weasley's face disappeared for a moment, and then the door was swung open completely, sunlight illuminating the entrance hall and the matron fully.

She was thinner, certainly, and a little gaunt in the face. Tired and stressed wrinkles framed her mouth and eyes, which to Hermione's memory had always been at least three shades lighter than they currently were. Her hair was starting to streak with white, and her apron was riddled with holes and dirt, as if it hadn't been washed or mended in eons. The previously quick-tempered, stable and loving mother looked as if the wind would knock her over, and she wouldn't even try to get back up. At the sight of the pair, though, her mouth lifted in a ghost of her old smile. "Ron, you didn't tell me you'd be bringing Hermione. What a lovely surprise. Come in, come in; Arthur and I were just about to set the table."

Wondering why the witch hadn't hugged her, as she had on any other occasion they'd met, Hermione followed Ron and Molly into the house silently. She was led into the sitting room, where Arthur Weasley was sitting before the fire, alternately flicking through an old copy of the Prophet and staring into the fire. He was balder now, still lanky like Ron, but obviously less muscular than his son. His usually cheerful disposition was one of the things Hermione loved most about the Burrow, and it was strange to not see him bound up from his chair and chatter to her boisterously to like he usually did. He stood from his armchair, nodded at Ron, grinned faintly at her, and then disappeared into the kitchen.

Taking a look about the room, Hermione noted with grim eyes that it was somewhat messy, scattered newspapers and the odd pile of mail; shoes flipped off wherever they landed, regardless of muddy bottoms. The pot of Floo powder sitting on the mantel, which was devoid of any pictures, was in danger of falling over, and a collection of Witches' Weekly teetered in the opposite corner. The Molly Weasley Hermione had known would have called it a pig sty.

Mrs. Weasley shuffled off after her husband, muttering about burning the roast, and delegated the task of setting the table to her son. Ron watched Hermione like hawk, taking in her surveillance of the room quietly, but nodded to his mother and gestured for Hermione to follow him into the kitchen as well. Once he was sure his parents were engaged in the age old argument over Garden Gnomes, he whispered quickly to her while setting out forks. "Don't be surprised when she lays out plates for the others. She's been doing that since we lost Fred, and refuses to stop when questioned about it. I say just let her get the comfort out of it that she needs, so long as she doesn't do anything more harmful."

Hermione choked inwardly, overwhelmed with sympathy for the other witch, but something niggled at her mind. "She sets spots for everyone? Even when only you and Ginny were living here when, well, when the deaths happened?"

"Everyone came home when Fred got the Kiss. We thought we should be here for them, you know? And Fred and George had stopped in for dinner, the night he was attacked, so she just insists that he'd like to have a place set as well."

Not knowing what to say, she just nodded. Helping levitate a few extra napkins over from the container on the counter, she pulled out Arthur's chair for him when he came over. Absently, the older man patted her cheek, sitting down before looking up wistfully to stare at the clock hanging against the near wall.

The Weasley clock had always been a fascination of Hermione's, but when she saw that three of the hands were set to 'Unknown' and covered in four inches of dust, she quickly glanced away. Moving jerkily, she picked the seat between Arthur and Ron, and was lowering herself into it when a sharp voice from the man halted her action. "Don't sit there. That's Charlie's spot," Arthur snapped, startling Molly, who was distributing large helpings of salad into the multiple bowls around them, into upsetting a glass. Twin blue eyes blazing at her in anger, and Hermione's face froze, back snapping upwards into a standing position, and Ron subtly pointed at the spot three down on the other side of the large table.

Taking the hint, she marched over to it, careful to watch Arthur's expression as she sunk into it. His eyes softened, and he smiled at her as if nothing had happened, but the strain about his eyes seemed to give him away. Molly sat, and started demurely chewing her salad, looking around the empty spots at the table with misty eyes.

"So, Hermione, how're things at work?" Arthur was smiling at her again, eyes occasionally flicking up to the clock, and Hermione's heartbeat skipped in panic, forcing her to look at Ron for help. Ron, however, was busy making little mountains out of his mashed potatoes, thus missing Hermione's signal. Panicking slightly, Hermione's mind struggled to come up with a general answer in which to give Arthur, seeing as she hadn't the faintest clue of what exactly her work _was_.

"Er…well, it's, uh –", she stumbled, clutching hard at her fork, "It's going well, I guess." Then, spotting the expectant look for detail on Arthur's face she continued hastily, "Busy – very busy."

Arthur continued to smile a smile that, Hermione noticed, came no where near reaching his eyes.

"Yes, naturally," he said, that ghost of a smile still lingering, "Being a Healer is very demanding. Unexpected hours, and –"

"What?" Hermione interrupted Arthur, her heart having jumped in surprise. Ron looked up from his plate, staring hard between his father and Hermione.

Arthur looked taken back, but went on, "Oh, I was just saying how difficult of a job it is for a Healer, and with all the –"

He continued to talk, but Hermione wasn't listening. She looked down at her untouched plate, grinning to herself. _A Healer_, she thought, is one of the positions she had always respected. It was a field that fulfilled her passion for logic and sensibility, yet at the same time complementing her motherly nature. This was indeed the bit of good news that she had desperately needed. Looking up, she beamed across the table at Ron, who gave a small grin back at her, recognizing Hermione's satisfaction.

"Hermione?"

"Yes?" Hermione answered quickly, shaken out of her daze. She focused in on the table, and noticed Molly looking at her with a polite expression.

"I was asking how Draco is, dear," she said, her kind eyes lined with worry wrinkles.

"Oh! Oh, um, he's…great!" Hermione forced a little laugh, barely noticing that she was still clutching at her fork. Her knuckles were whiter than ever.

"That's nice," Molly replied with a closed-lip smile. "That's very nice, indeed. Too bad he couldn't join us, of course. Occupied with work, I suppose?"

Hermione glanced at Ron, who gave a small nod. "Yes," she said awkwardly.

Conversation went south after Malfoy's mention. The whole table sat in silence, occasionally omitting a cough or a simple "Will you please pass the margarine?" Other than this, however, it was probably the most uncomfortable situation Hermione had ever been a part of. She was sure that the happiest man alive would instantly become foreboding and sullen the moment he walked through the Weasley's front door. The atmosphere was so thick that you could feel the regret and sorrow that hung upon it. So when Hermione had finished her meal and Ron had finally stood up, she was more than relieved to be leaving.

"It was great, Mum," Ron said, kissing his mother on the top of the head. Molly patted the back of Ron's neck in response, the first genuine smile crossing her lips. "Thanks a lot. I'll be back soon, I promise." He looked up at Hermione. "Ready?"

"Yes," Hermione said, trying not to sound too eager. "Yes, I'm ready."

"Do try and come back soon, Hermione," said Arthur, "It's always nice to see a familiar face."

"I will," she replied, smiling warmly down at the balding man with compassion. "I'll be back much more often, I assure you."

"Wonderful," Arthur said, returning Hermione's affectionate air. "That would be wonderful."

Hermione turned and walked toward the door that Ron was holding open for her. She was about to pass through it when she heard the scraping of a chair and hurried footsteps. Before she knew what was happening, Molly had encircled herself and Ron into a very tight embrace.

"Do take care of yourselves, won't you?" she said into their shoulders, her voice breaking, "Be careful; always be careful. I love you both very, very much." Molly released them, revealing her tear-stained face. She quickly gave both of them a kiss on the cheek before returning to her seat at the dinner table. Hermione, unsure of what to do, merely glanced at the table before stepping into the garden outside.

Behind her, she heard Ron mutter, "We will, Mum. Don't worry." The door shut, and Ron soon joined Hermione at her side. Hermione didn't hesitate to give Ron a hug that could have rivaled his Mum's.

"I'm so sorry, Ron," she said softly, pulling back and giving him a small kiss.

Ron didn't say anything. He grabbed hold of Hermione's arm as he had done so hours ago and, without warning; Hermione was thrust forward into nothingness. Half a second later, and with a faint _pop, _Hermione and Ron appeared just outside a house that Hermione soon came to recognize as her own. She peered up at it, a look of disdain upon her face.

"Already?" she asked Ron desperately. Really, being shut inside an enormous manor that, in the past, hadn't put on the best front in Hermione's mind was the last thing on her list of appeals. Especially, she thought, with _Malfoy_.

"Yeah, well," said Ron, shifting his feet uncomfortably, "There _is_ a curfew on this barrier thing. Can't be out more than twenty-four hours or it'll just poof you right back in, you know?"

"Ron, it's only seven. I have plenty of time," Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, I know, but I think it'd be best if you just settled down here for a while. Not much else we can do, after all. Plus, you need to get used to your surroundings if you're ever going to get comfortable again." Ron gazed at Hermione with a sympathetic expression, seeing her look of hurt, "You'll be fine, I promise. I – I'll come over tomorrow, ok? Check up on you. Is that alright?"

Hermione huffed, frowning. "Sure," she said regretfully, "Yes, that's fine."

"Thanks," said Ron, giving her a brief hug. "Just go on in and, uh, I guess you can _call_ me on that thing if you need to. The, uh, the telephone...thing.."

Hermione laughed, "Ok. Thanks, Ron - for everything."

Ron waved his hand and, with a swift turn, he was gone with a _crack_. Hermione sighed, still staring at the spot Ron had disappeared. She crossed her arms, protecting herself against the slight chill before turning and cautiously opening the doors of the Manor. Everything appeared the same as it was when she had left it. She hardly noticed the lack of light before, almost instantly, each room was illuminated with a satisfactory glow.

"Malfoy?" Hermione called out uncertainly, looking to her left and right. Seeing no sign of any other life besides her own, she tried again, "Malfoy? Hello?"

No answer.

Slightly relieved, Hermione started to climb the dizzying array of spiral stairs that led back up the room in which she and Malfoy had woken up in, mere hours ago. She barely noticed the surrounding doors on each floor that she had been so intrigued by earlier and, when she reached the highest level, she had to steady herself on the landing's intricate rose and snake rail. Hermione shook her head, trying to rid herself of the light-headedness caused by those damned stairs. Once she had regained composure, and once the room had stopped spinning, Hermione took a moment to drink in her surroundings.

Even if she had to share this place with someone as detestable as Draco Malfoy, the incredible beauty of the Manor was almost enough to make the whole thing worth while. Taking a second, Hermione contemplated this theory.

…

"Nah," she said to her herself, crossing to the door that had the large emblem engraved in its wood, which she recognized to be the door to the bedroom. Opening the door, she stepped into the magnificent room, making her way directly to the bed. Her stomach turned when she passed the entrance into the closet, remembering the conversation she had had with the very testy mirror inside of it.

Hermione reached inside her Hogwart's school robes, enclosing her fingers around her wand. She pulled it out of her pocket and carefully placed it on the nightstand next to the bed. Kicking off her shoes, Hermione crawled under the neatly-done sheets (the bed had obviously re-made itself whilst she had been away, seeing as the curtain Malfoy had entangled himself in now hung obediently where it had been before). She turned on her side, pulling the warm covers up to her nose and snuggling her face into the insanely squishy pillow. Hermione didn't even know how exhausted she really was until her eyelids became heavier and heavier by the minute. Her mind racing with thoughts and possibilities, Hermione vaguely wondered where Malfoy had gone off to all day before her drowsiness took over, and she fell into a deep sleep.

**A/N** (Tayz): IT'S DONE! IT'S FINISHED! REJOICE! WE ARE SO SORRY! But, hey, we got it done, right? R-right? Er….yeeeeah….Ok, so, we promised you they would get out of the house and they _did_, so, hoohah! Next chapter, look forward to seeing where our dear little Draco had run off to whilst Hermione was with Ron. Exciting, eh? Once again, we're really sorry for the wait, but we hope you guys like the chapter! We have a lot of stuff planned, so, don't worry…it'll get a lot more exciting after Draco's part. Tell us what you think, please! Be honest! Constructive criticism, please:) Well, we'll try to get the next one up sooner. That's it for now, toodles!

Tay

**A/N** (Nicole): So sorry for the incredibly long wait, guys. School and friends have just consumed our lives, but we're doing our best to get the next few chapters done and posted without the five month wait. Hope you guys liked it, and that you leave a review for us, even if it's just to scream about the long wait! 3 -Nicole

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